Infiltration
by With The What Now
Summary: Cherub believe that children are never suspected to be spies. So when a new recruit turns up, a child, why would they suspect him of spying? After all, he's one of them. On their side. Alex Rider/Cherub Crossover.
1. We need you

**Alright, so I have no idea where this story came from. One second, I****'m reading a Twilight FanFic, and the next, I've got a semi-plot of where this could go.**

**Yes, I know I've got another story running, and trust me, that will be the main priority; this is just something I spontaneously thought of, and as such, I don't think it would be updated as quickly as Escape will be.**

**For more details/ if you're wondering what I'm up to when I'm not posting Chapters, visit my LiveJournal website (I don't know if it's private or public, so you may need an account/create an account to view it) at http: / / 04williamsl. Live journal. Com / Just take out the spaces.**

**Enjoy**

**Chapter One**

_Alex Rider_

I knew when I got a phone call shortly after five in the afternoon that it would be one of two businesses; one, some stupid telemarketers who always seemed to phone at tea-time, or the bank. However, due to it being a Bank Holiday Monday, Alex doubted it would be telemarketers, as they normally seemed to take this day off.

You may think that the 'bank' would take the Bank Holiday Monday off too, because you know, the 'bank' in the name would give you a clue as to whom the holiday was aimed at, but no. This certain 'bank' (note the quotation marks) wasn't _exactly_ a bank.

As Alex thought about this on his way to the phone in the front hall, he wondered what the 'bank' did on Bank Holiday Mondays. After all, they would have to put on a front to show that the 'bank' was also taking the day off. But then, how did the agents get inside? Alex figured there must be a back- or underground-entrance.

The bank was, of course, MI6's Headquarters.

Sighing, Alex reached for the phone, picked it up, and answered in a girlish, bored tone.

"Thank you for phoning Pizza Hut, this is Sheila speaking, can I take your order, please?"

"_Mr Rider, think is the bank speaking-"_

"Hello Mr Bankes, what would you like to order?"

"_Mr Rider, this is not a joke. Please come to-"_

"Would you like extra cheese with your order, sir, or perhaps we can interesft you in our special meal deal? Two twin 10" London Pizzas for £6.95 Order with-"

"_Mr Rider. You are expected at the bank at six. We insist that you come - we have information we think you'd like to hear."_

Alex, amused, hung up the phone on the speaker, and walked back into the front room where his guardian, Jack, lay on the couch, looking at him inquisitively, totally ignoring the goings on of _Come Dine With Me_ that was currently on on the television.

"What did they want?" She asked, even though she knew perfectly well what they wanted.

"Same as usual. 'Come to the bank, Mr. Rider' 'We insist that you come, Mr Rider,'" He replied, deepening his tone of voice as he mocked the bank's representative.

"Please don't tell me you're going, Alex!"

He didn't reply to her, instead sitting on the chair near to her. He was deep in thought; had been since he'd hung up the phone. _What did they mean they had information he wanted?_

After a pause, Alex finally replied to her question.

"I think I have to, Jack," He sighed. "They 'have information' that apparently I need to hear. You know me Jack, it'll bug me until I know what they're on about." He looked at her, willing her to understand.

She looked back at him, looking into his sad brown eyes. Finally, she herself sighed, resigned to Alex and his needing to know of information.

"Fine! Go! But I swear to Jeebus himself, if you don't come back by tonight, I'm going to hunt you down and drag you back home myself. You hear me? And you better be in the condition you went out in, too, or else your dead meat. Capiche?"

Smiling at Jack's unproductive speech, Alex stood up and went to the hall, grabbing his coat and putting on his shoes, before leaving the house and going to the side wall where his bike was locked to a hook in the wall. Using his keys from his jacket pocket, Alex unlatched the bike, and rode off to the Royal and General bank.

When Alex arrived, it was just after six o'clock. _Better late than never_.

As he walked up the front steps, bringing the bike along with him, a fairly muscled man in a security guard's clothing opened the front doors for him. Not speaking, the man pointed to the elevators, an unspoken message for Alex to go to them.

Doing as the guard told him to, Alex walked to the lift doors that were open, and stepped inside. Without having to touch a button, the doors slid closed, and the lift began to ascend.

Reaching the 17th floor, the doors slid open without a sound, an Alex walked forwards into the grey corridor, reaching the office he knew held a man in a grey suit with grey hair and an expressionless face. Possibly, a woman similar to the grey man with a similar expressionless face may also be there.

Walking to Mr Blunt's office, Alex decided to forgo a knock on the door, instead opting to barge into the room.

Of course, Mr Blunt and Mrs Jones had been told to expect Alex Rider the moment the boy had rode onto Liverpool Street, and again been told of his arrival as soon as he had went inside of the lift. As such, Alex's unexpected arrival to his door actually _wasn't_ unexpected.

Alex walked into the room and sat on the chair provided for him. Unblinking, Alex stared at the man in front of him. And stared. And stared. _No way am I speaking first._

Mrs Jones was the first to break the tension filled and silent room, opting to get straight to the point.

"Alex, we called you in to give you some information we recently acquired," she paused, looking towards her boss before continuing, "this certainly came as a… _surprise_ to us. No, surprise isn't the right word."

Alex watched, surprised _himself_ at how Mrs Jones was floundering with her words.

"More alarmed, shocked and even slightly appalled at both the information we received and because we didn't find out soone-"

"And what, exactly, is this information?" Alex asked, becoming quite annoyed at how they weren't telling him, or at least not telling him soon enough for his liking.

"Oh, right, yes, well. The information. It seems that MI5 have been up to no good under our noses. Since the middle of World War Two, it seems that MI5 have been recruiting children to act as their spies. Since World War Two, and we didn't even know about it!"

The woman went on, but Alex had stopped listening at the words "recruiting children to act as their spies."

Alex interrupted her ramblings, confused.

"So wait, MI5 are using kids as their spies, right?" at their nodding heads, Alex continued. "Then why did Mr Crawley ask me to do a mission for him when they already had people at their disposal?"

Mr Blunt was the one to answer him, answering his question with almost humour in his tone - that's right. _Humour._

"Well, MI5 and their pet spies, aren't _really_ spies. All they basically do is place bugs and listen devices into things like chair seats and plant-pots, then leave the mission. Sometimes, it's more than that, and _agents_ have been known - according to our sources - to spend up to three or four years on a mission." He paused, then continued, "to answer your question as to why you were used by Crawley, well, you are simply _better _than his pets" If Alex wasn't listening as raptly as he was, he would have almost missed the proud tone Blunt had in his voice, "These agents, or CHERUB's, as they are known to be called, can only go on missions that a 'committee' has passed as doable and not extremely dangerous to the children. Therefore, when a mission needed a child, but was to dangerous to that child, they sought out you, instead."

Alex was surprised; no, like Mrs Jones said, that wasn't the right word. Shocked and appalled where the right words.

"So, why are you giving me this information? Why are you telling me all this?" At the look Blunt and Jones expressed to each other, Alex realised why they were telling him this. "Oh no! No way. I'm not going on another mission. You said you'd leave me alone!"

"We're sorry Alex, but we really need you on this mission; you are, literally, the only person that can infiltrate CHERUB," Mrs Jones said, "and I think we failed to mention a few things. For starters, all CHERUB agents are given extreme schooling; most agents pass their GCSE's by the time they're fourteen. You're behind on school work, right?"

"No thanks to you," Alex said petulantly.

Ignoring him, Blunt continued "Well, if you manage to get to CHERUB bases, they _will_ give you a very high standard education. Another thing is that if they give you a mission, you _can_ refuse to go on it. And like we said, these missions are _extremely _easy. You go in, place some listening devices, then you're out.

"And finally, _we_ don't even know where CHERUB is based. It is an extremely well kept secret, we must assure you of that. If you were to go there, then there would be little doubt that you'd be safe; any enemies that may want to retaliate on you won't be able to find you…"

Mrs Jones took over, trying to persuade Alex to agree to do the mission "Look, all we need you to do is get into CHERUB. If, after a month, we hear nothing from them, then you can go back to your normal life. But Alex, we need you. You _are_ the only person who can do this mission. CHERUB believe that adults never suspect that children are spying on them; you're a child, and as such, if their policy is correct, means that you should never be suspected if they find out you're spying on them._ After all, why would one of their recruits be a suspect?"_

Alex looked between the two adults, contemplating.

"And what, exactly, do I have to do?"

"Firstly, we'd need to place you in a children's home which has been confirmed to have a retired agent in it; that's how they pick their agents - children with no parents, so that no one misses them if they go missing, and no one sues them if their children get hurt on a mission. We already know of a children's home for this. Then, we'll let that home look after you; you'll get a new identity, which means that you _will_ have to move schools. If you're picked as a CHERUB, then we just need you to get information, things like their location, how many agents they have, how they train them, who their instructors are. Things like this; easy information you can get by just watching. Easy."

Again, Alex looked at the two eager expressions of the people in front of him. Coming to a decision, Alex leaned back in his seat.

"Fine, I'll do it. I'm guessing I need to go see Smithers?"

"Yes, you do. Somebody will collect you at 7 tomorrow morning to take you to a block of flats. That'll be your home for two hours or so until a social worker at the children's home will come for you. A concerned neighbour will be in the room with you; she's the one who called social services. Go with the social worker, and try to show your brains; hide your stuff in secret places, find innovative ways to avoid bullies, etcetera etcetera. Smithers has your file with your new identity in it. Goodbye, Alex, until we meet again."

A clear dismissal, Alex stood from his seat, walked to the door, and got in the lift. It was only after the doors closed that Alex realised he forgot to ask a very important question: _If I get chosen to go to CHERUB, then how will I get out when the mission's over?_

A scowl on his face, Alex reached Smithers' floor and stepped out of the elevator. Walking to where the fat man sat working on some gadget or other, Alex greeted the older more podgy man.

"Hello Mr Smithers!" he said warmly, a smile replacing the scowl.

"Alex, my boy! Just the chap I was expecting to see," the man winked at Alex, "I must say that I wasn't wishing to see you any time soon, even if I do have fun with coming up with gadgets to suit you. Although, on this mission, I can't really give you much. The source said that anything in the child's pockets when on their travels to CHERUB's base is removed. Meaning, of course, that I had an even harder challenge! But, I must say I am proud with these ideas."

Smithers walked towards a drawer placed in the middle of the room, and talked into the handle "Shelly, please bring me articles 19540688 and 932145703, thank you my dear."

Within seconds, the drawer was flipped, and a woman in a suit replaced it, sat on a chair. 'Shelly' handed files and a box to Smithers. Again, within seconds, 'Shelly' was gone, and the drawer was back in place.

Alex decided not to comment on what he'd just witnessed.

"Right, old chap, here's the boring stuff you need to _read_," Smithers rolled his eyes, and mumbled under his breath _"Could have used paper-waiter, but noo. Can't do that!_" Before continuing talking to Alex "It has all the information you need about your new persona; name, age, background, parents details. Some other stuff added in there, too, but the rest, like your likes and dislikes, you can just make-up. And now to the fun stuff!"

Smithers shook the box 'Shelly' had given him, before opening it carefully with a pen-knife. No doubt, the pen-knife had other features placed inside of it.

"Here we are. Now then, I remembered that you used to have a pierced ear, right?" Smithers continued, not bothering to wait for Alex to confirm his unobvious rhetorical question, "So, because you're not allowed to take anything in your pockets, they'll most focus on that when transporting you to wherever it is you're going. Therefore, they'll most likely miss the obvious ear-stud. It has three functions. One, a walkie-talkie device. Take the ear-stud out of your ear, and the front part is your ear-piece. The back part is what you talk into. It's automatically hard-wired to call me, and I'll pass on whatever message you have to Blunt and Jones up-top. The second function is an explosive - press the two parts together three times within ten seconds, and kaboom! I'd suggest you don't stand too close when that thing goes off, either. The third function would be that both sides can attach themselves to anything, metal, wood, plastic; you name it, it'll stick to it. You can remove it, too, by simply tapping it."

Smithers took a deep breath, before removing three other items from the box; a white vest, a red _Nike_ top and jeans.

"Now then, I couldn't really do much with these, but they are bullet-proof, fire-proof, and if necessary, you can use the as rope, although the rope won't exactly go that far… Make sure you wear these if you're called into an office for any reason whatsoever after the first day you get there. I doubt they'll try to recruit you before you even do anything worth-while.

"And that's about it, my boy. Just try not to get yourself killed. Goodbye, Alex."

Alex collected the items Smithers gave to him, as well as his identification information, and left the building, heading home to Jack for the last time for a while.

**Alright, so yeah, I know that Alex most probs wouldn****'t be picked to become a CHERUB because he's a bit older than the selection age, but whatever.**

**Review, and remember, visit my site: http: / / 04williamsl. Live journal. Com /**

**And please, leave me a review :D**


	2. Changing

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and the great support that you****'****ve given me for this story.**

**I must admit that I****'****m really excited about this story; I have way more ideas about it than I do for Escape. However, I do intend to finish that story, likewise I intend to finish this one, too.**

**Disclaimer: I don****'****t own AR/Cherub. Sadly. Le Sigh.**

**Also, please visit my LJ account - basically, it has a lot of ramblings on it, some about the chapters I'm posting on here, as well as other stuff. To bribe you into going on it, if people** **ask, then you may get teasers of up and coming chapters… maybe. Link is on my profile page.**

* * *

Chapter Two

_Alex Rider_

As Alex returned to his home in Chelsea, he thought on what he would say to Jack. He dreaded the conversation he knew that they were going to have, but at least he could say that he could be home within a month, still be getting an education, and just be a few streets away from her. They could, if planned correctly, see each other everyday; they just couldn't speak or acknowledge one another.

When he arrived, he locked his bike back into place on the side wall of the house, and entered his home, carrying the files of his new identity and the box of gadgets with him.

"Jack, I'm home!" he yelled in greeting, removing his jacket and trainers.

"Front room," came her reply, telling Alex where she was.

As he walked to her, he noticed that she hadn't moved from the place he'd left her. Snorting, Alex decided to sit in the chair he'd previously sat in after he'd received the phone call from the bank.

"Well, I came home like you wanted," Alex smiled. "No need to hunt me down like you promised."

"Funny, Alex. So what did they want?" she questioned, curious.

"Same as usual. 'We need you Alex, you're the only one that can do it, Alex'," he said, trying to impersonate Mr Blunt's tone of voice. "This time, I gotta say, they're right. I _am_ the only one who could most probably do it."

"Oh Alex, don't tell me you agreed to go on another mission," Jack pleaded, looking at him with sad eyes.

"Er, I might have said yes."

"Alex! You promised not to go on another one. They promised to leave you alone!"

"I know, but really, Jack, this one isn't as dangerous as the other ones. At least, I don't think it is," Jack tried to interrupt him, but he continued on before she could get a word in. "And I can be home within a month if the group of people they want me to infiltrate don't pick me up. If they do, well, I don't think I'll even be leaving the country!" He paused, thinking of what else to say, and Jack finally got to say what she wanted to.

"Oh, and who are these people? Hmm? A group of superheroes turned bad? A drug gang? Or maybe another terrorist group that's going to kill you this time?" Jack was really starting to get worked up; she didn't want to have to see Alex in a hospital again, see him beaten up and broken.

"Actually, I need to get into a kids group. I can't really tell you about it, but according to 'sources' that MI6 got their information from, the group is a _good_ group. They're trained to place spying bugs into _bad_ guys' headquarters, then get out. Not dangerous - and, apparently, I'll still be getting an education - a better education - if I get chosen. And like I said, if I don't get chosen, then I come home within a month. All I'll have to do is live somewhere else, and I'll be just a few streets away. We can even see each other everyday if we want to!" Alex was almost begging, trying to make Jack understand.

"Look, I'll be leaving tomorrow. Can we just spend a night together not arguing over this? Please?"

Jack sighed, looking out the window, before putting on the happy face she'd mastered after Alex's third mission, and agreed.

"Fine, no arguing tonight, but I want you to promise me you'll come back in one piece… and alive."

"Agreed."

For the two hours before Alex headed to bed, he and Jack had fun, not once mentioning his leaving tomorrow morning.

When Alex finally left for his bedroom, he was in high spirits. Ignoring the homework sitting on his desk, Alex went to the bed, turning his bedside table lamp on and finally looked at the files Smithers had given him.

He was to be known as Alex Galloway, 13 years old, and born in the north-east of England. When he was three, his father, Alex Galloway Sr, Gang Lord of the Downtown Shooters, had been shot by their rivals, Danger Bullets, during a shoot-out. His mother, having no money, took Alex and moved to Manchester to live with her older sister. Unfortunately, the rival gang had many different departments, and in Manchester there was three departments. Years after moving, their flat was raided, and Alex was shot. Luckily, he survived. 6 years after that, and after they'd moved again, news spread from the Manchester department to a London department that their rivals' Gang Lord's wife and son had moved there, the London department came to their apartment in London and shot Alex's mother and aunt. Alex had been at a camp-out with his friends, so had missed the shooting. From there, the police got involved, but Alex ran away from them. For just over a month, Alex had been squatting in a block of flats.

His mothers name was Sarah Galloway (maiden name Boddy) and his Aunt's name was Rebecca Boddy, unmarried.

Alex Galloway had been to two Primary schools, and three secondary schools. Since his mothers death, however, he hadn't turned up for school; he was smart enough to know that the police would come and get him if he went.

He only came out of the apartment he was squatting in at night, searching for food.

When Alex was taken to the apartment tomorrow, he was to knock over a table; by accident, of course, and a concerned neighbour was to call the police, knowing the apartment should be empty. From there, a social worker would be called to take him to a care home.

After reading about who he was to be, Alex put the files in his drawer and went to bed, knowing he had an early start tomorrow.

He awoke shortly after six to banging cupboards on the floor below him, and Jack's voice occasionally shouting an odd word or two.

Putting on a top and jeans, he crept down the stairs and to the kitchen, standing in the doorway watching Jack try to put together a breakfast.

"Don't just stand there gawping, Alex! Get your tush over here and help."

Even though he was confused as to how she knew he was there, he figured it was just womanly intuition, and walked in to help her prepare food. Or rather, he got the milk, and she got the cereal.

Sitting opposite each other at the table, Alex waited for Jack to ask the questions he knew were bubbling up inside of her.

"_So _I was wondering when thy were coming to pick you up? Actually, who's coming to pick you up? And where are they taking you, again?"

Smiling at Jack's predictability, Alex answered her "They're coming at seven. I don't know who's picking me up - most probably some henchman from the bank. They're taking me to-"

Before Alex could finish his sentence, a knock rang out on the front door. As he went to open it, he looked at the clock on the wall and noted that it wasn't even twenty past six; they were early.

Opening the door, a middle-aged woman with a briefcase stood on the doorstep. Behind her, a Ford Ka car was parked on the curb on the other side of the road.

"Mr Rider, I presume?" She asked.

"That's me."

"Excellent. The bank sent me to help you with your assets. If I could come inside, Mr Rider, so we could talk about this in a more comfortable environment, please." Translated, that meant: _The bank sent me. I__'__m not happy to be here. But that__'__s my job. So let me fucking inside and we__'__ll talk about you more._

Alex opened the door wider, inviting her into his home.

"Of course, Miss…"

"Ms Simpson"

"Ms Simpson. Right. You're early. I thought you weren't meant to come until seven." Alex asked of the woman as they moved into the back room.

"No, you're not going to be _collected_ until seven. I'm just here to change your appearance some, as well as go over your identity with you. I assume you have the files, yes?"

"Um, yes," Alex replied, somewhat uncertainly; why would she want his files?

"Excellent. If you can go and get them for me, then that would be smashing."

"Sure," Alex replied, and left the woman in the back room to go and get the files.

As soon as he returned, he noted that presumably Ms Simpson had gotten a chair from the kitchen, and had placed it in the middle of the room. Also, she had opened her briefcase. Inside was many different coloured tubes, clothing, glasses, bottles and many other jewellery. Handing her the files, she put them next to her briefcase, making sure Alex couldn't see what was written on them; this was a test.

"Take a seat, Mr Galloway, and we'll get started." She had specifically called him 'Galloway'; she knew about his identity, and was calling him that as practice for when, during the mission, he would be called it.

Alex did, perching on the front of the chair, uncomfortable; from where he sat, he couldn't see what she was doing.

As she turned around to face him, she started to speak.

"Firstly, I'm going to be changing your hair colour; it will wash out after two months, maybe before then if chemicals in certain shampoos and conditioners are applied to your hair. Although I've been told this _agency_ will know your hair has been dyed, whilst you're still in London, it would be better to not have people recognise you." She applied the lotion as she spoke, flinging Alex's head this way and that as she tried to spread it all over his head. Occasionally, he winced as hairs were pulled. "Then, I'll be cutting your hair to make you more… bedraggled… more rough looking. Whilst we wait for the lotion to work, I'll be questioning you on your new identity. Is that clear, Mr Galloway?"

Alex knew he had no way of _not_ understanding, and it was more of a rhetorical question than anything else, but he nodded his head dutifully anyway.

"Good. Lets begin. Your name."

"Alex Galloway"

"Age."

"Thirteen"

"Why are you in a block of flats in London, without parental guidance?"

"My parents are dead. Father died in a shooting when I was a baby…."

The questioning continued, his hair continued to be messed with, and at some point Jack came in to watch Alex Riders transformation into Alex Galloway.

At quarter to seven, Alex was demanded to go upstairs and wash his hair to make the hair dye permanent and to get the smell of the lotion out. He was told that he could use his normal shampoo as it was a 'safe' shampoo.

Ten minutes later, Alex came back downstairs wearing the vest, top and jeans Smithers had given him, as well as the trainers he'd gotten from a previous mission.

Looking in the mirror that was on a wall in the hall, Alex carefully put the ear-stud in his ear, and walked to where Jack and Ms Simpson stood, waiting for him in the back room. The chair had been moved back to the kitchen, and the briefcase was shut.

"Well, say your goodbyes, as I'm sure a car will be here within moments to collect you, Mr Galloway." She said as she moved to the door, pulling it open and stepping outside, walking to her own car without so much as a goodbye.

Alex and Jack looked at each other, waiting for the first to speak.

Finally, Jack sighed, and broke the silence.

"Good luck, Alex. Please, come back to me whole and safe. Don't go getting yourself into any unnecessary trouble."

Smiling at her, he said he wouldn't, and gave her a hug.

Within seconds of stepping back from her, he heard a car parking outside of their house.

"Well, I guess I'll see you as soon as I can."

"Right, every morning before school, outside of Tesco."

Still smiling, Alex said another goodbye before leaving the house and getting into the blue car.

Neither the driver nor Alex spoke as they drove ten minutes to the block of flats Alex was to squat in for a few hours. Parking in a street before the car would have entered the estate, the driver told Alex that he could go no further, and that he was to go to room 107.

Alex understood why the man could not go any further; although it was fairly dark for it being seven in the morning, people where still up because they had to go to work or school. It was safer for Alex to get out here instead of at the flats in case someone saw him being dropped off, and they mentioning it to the police. Although unlikely, it was better safe than sorry.

Doing as the driver said, Alex walked onto the estate and up the flight of stairs to his room, opening the unlocked door and stepping inside his second home of the day.

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**Alright! So, how did you like that chapter?**

**Yeah, although Alex is 14/15 in the story, he has to pretend to be 13... More chance of him being chosen to be at Cherub, now isn****'****t it!**

**A question for you all: Do you want me to rush through it, and by, say, the fourth chapter he****'****s at Cherub, or do you want me to get as many details in as I can, such as the apartment scene, first impressions and his arrival at the kids home, a week or so (I would put that week in one chapter, but still) at the children****'****s home, then with another chapter covering why he was chosen to be a Cherub (which could include a day at his school), etc etc. If you want me to rush it, then basically all that information would be squashed into two/three chapters, instead of what I think could potentially be four-six chapters. If you want me to squash it, then it would just be, like ****"****Alex****'****s first week at the kids home was one of his worst. Firstly****…**** secondly****…**** thirdly****…"****"****School, too, was awful for Alex. This happened, this happened****…****. But then, things turned good for him. On his way home from school, Alex got to prove his intelligence by doing this. By the next day, he was told to come into the office. He was knocked out, and when he awoke, he was in a strange bed in a strange room.****"**

**However, although wouldn****'****t be better, it would mean AR (AG) is finally at Cherub****…**

**Which brings me to ask another question - anyone have any ideas of how he can prove his intelligence?**

**Review, and tell me what you think!**


	3. Banging around in a flat

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed :D**

**Alright, so here****'****s Chapter Three. I decided to just add in as many details as I can****…**** hopefully, you****'****ll keep reading. I just don****'****t want the story to be rushed, and sound like a real amateur wrote it, with action in every single chapter, or pain or what not. I hope you get as much out of the story as you would with the books - or at least a fraction of what you lot get out of the books.**

**NOTE: TO ANYONE WHO REVIEWED WEDNESDAY/THURSDAY, PLEASE READ. Alright, so one of you sent me a review on Wed/Thurs, with ideas on what could happen. I replied to you with some idas I was thinking of putting in the story, only I've forgotten what I said I was thinking of doing... So yeah, if you still have my reply, would you mind sending me what I put? Gracias.**

**Warning: Language.**

Chapter Three.

_Alex Rider_

As soon as Alex stepped inside of his new home for the next couple of hours, he immediately noticed that there wasn't much light. When he fumbled for the light switch on the side wall, no light came on. He guessed that because the apartment was supposed to be empty, the owner of the flats had cut off the electricity, and most likely water supply, for this room. Waiting for his eyes to adjust a bit, Alex got his bearings and walked to where a slight bit of light came in from the back wall - a window.

Pulling the thick black yet shabby curtains aside slightly, and turning to look at the rest of the room from the little light the window gave, he quickly noted the ripped couch, padding showing through the holes on the far wall, a table in the middle of the room and two doors that led elsewhere. Deciding to see where the doors led, he walked over to the one on the left hand-side and opened it.

From the limited light there was, he saw what he thought was meant to be a bathroom; a creamy-yellow toilet and a matching coloured bath where inside. Alex didn't dare go into the room, for the stench was not a pleasant one. Shutting the door quickly, he went to the last door and opened it.

What he saw was what his mind had thought would be there, if the movies and the supposedly bathroom were any indication; a mattress on the floor, covered in stains with a sheet partially covering it, plastic bags dotting he floor, and wrappers and food cartons spread out around the room. He guessed that to keep up the charade that Alex had been squatting here, MI6 had planted extras in to make it look lived in in case the police took any notice of it.

Looking at his watch, he waited until five to nine in the living room, opting to sit on the floor rather than the raggedly sofa. Although true squatters wouldn't be so picky about it, Alex knew that no one would know whether he'd sat on the floor or couch, and it didn't really matter.

When the time was right, Alex stood before moving over to the table he'd noticed earlier. He decided to just push it, and did so. It didn't make much sound as he moved it, and a second after stepping back from it, it collapsed in a pile on the floor. As the flooring had been tile, and the table made of wood, the impact this time _was_ loud. He knew that the 'concerned neighbour,' as well as those most probably above and below him, would have most likely heard it.

Yelling a loud "Shit!" in the off chance that no one had heard The Great Table Collapse of 20-10, as Alex now referred to it, to make it seem as though he'd walked into it by accident, and had hurt himself. Playing it up a bit, he knew, but if a job was worth doing, it was worth doing well and all that…

After waiting patiently - or as patiently as one could in this situation, - and silently, for ten minutes, Alex heard footsteps on the stairs. _Two pairs of footsteps._

For a confused minute, Alex wondered why they were taking so long to enter his room - at least a minute had passed since he'd heard the footsteps.

Retreating to the bedroom, Alex finally heard a jangle of keys outside his apartment door, before a key was inserted into the lock and the door began to open.

The lights switched on, and Alex realised why they'd taken so long; they'd turned the electricity back on in his room; at the end of each flight of stairs was the control box for each apartment. Presumably, the owner had gone there to turn the electricity on so he'd have light to see who was squatting in his flats.

"I swear, I heard a bang up here. And I heard someone talking, too. Someone's in here! Look - over there. At the table." Voice one, a man, said. Obviously, this was the 'concerned neighbour.'

"Fucking hell," Voice two, another man, mumbled to himself. Speaking louder, the man now addressed the squatter. "Alright, whoeva's in here, show ya self!"

Alex kept himself hidden in the bedroom; no squatter would show himself in the hopes that the owner would just assume the table had collapsed by itself.

"The longer you stay hidden, the worse it's gonna be!" The voice was louder now, closer and almost taunting.

Still, Alex hid in his room; well, hid was the wrong word - there was nothing to hide behind. Really, Alex just sat on his mattress, trying to look as weak and pathetic as possible; the landlord may go easier on him that way.

The two men came closer to the bedroom, and not only could he hear them moving, but he could also hear the faint sounds of sirens; the police would soon be here.

Apparently, so could the two men. He heard the first voice, the owner, ask the neighbour if he'd called the police.

"Yeah. What if the guy has a gun?"

"Damn _it_. I wanted to get my hands on 'im."

_Ah, so the Rider luck _is_ still with me, _Alex thought, slightly amused at the situation.

Opening the door, a fairly large man with a beer belly stood in the opening and saw Alex straight away.

"Fucking hell. It's a bloody kid," he said, disdain evident in his voice.

He was talking to himself, though, as he certainly wasn't talking to Alex, who still sat on the mattress, not moving. The neighbour had moved off to direct the officers, and as such, came back within minutes, two police officers accompanying him.

Before they could get a word in edgeways, the owner decided to speak first.

"It's a kid - been living in my flats. God only knows how long. Get him outta here, will ya?" He said, directing his comments at the police officers.

The female copper, a short but thin woman in her early thirties, Alex guessed, moved forwards to bend on her knees next to Alex. The other officer, a younger man with dark hair, stood near the door in case Alex made a run for it.

"Can you tell me your name?" She asked, extending her arm out towards the sad looking boy.

"Alex," was his only response, more of a mumble.

"Okay, Alex. Why are you here?"

"Never mind why he's here! I want him gone. And he's going to pay for that table 'e's broke." The landlord, not a very sympathetic man, almost shouted, annoyed that the woman was showing his squatter kindness. "He's broken into me flat and trashed the place."

Deciding that Alex Galloway, the son of a Gang Lord, would be a fairly cheeky character, he decided to bait the owner.

"No I didn't! That table was already broken! You just have to go into that awful bathroom and you can see I'm telling the truth. You should be the one arrested; it should be against human rights to live in a dump like this. How you get pe-"

"That's enough," the female officer had had enough of the yelling. "I'm P.C. Turner, and that's P.C. Longbottom."

Alex couldn't hold in his snort of laughter, and neither could the landlord. The neighbour had mysteriously disappeared, although Alex had heard him leave shortly after the officers had found him.

P.C. Longbottom narrowed his eyes at Alex, but didn't say anything.

"Stand up, please," the woman was done with pleasantries, even though she had a soft-spot for Alex; she was a woman with two kids slightly younger than Alex. To see a child living like this was hard for her to see.

Taking a hold of his arm, not putting him in handcuffs as she believed that Alex wouldn't make a run for it, she directed him out of the apartment and down the stairs.

Putting a hand on the top of his head, she pushed him down slightly after they'd arrived at the police car and opened the back door. Pushing him in, she closed the door behind him and got into the passenger seat herself. She didn't need to read him his rights; although Alex had been unofficially living in the block of flats, the landlord hadn't asked them to make an official arrest, just to get him out of there.

P.C. Longbottom was the driver, and as soon as his companion was settled, he started the car and took them to the station.

Alex didn't speak on the car journey, instead just looking out of the window.

When Alex arrived at the station, he decided to not co-operate with the officers to start with, trying to create the attitude of a young rebel.

When an officer behind the desk asked for his name, he chose to see how far he could push them before they started to get angry.

When he was asked for his name, he told the man "McDonald."

"And your first name?"

"Donald, sir."

"Donald McDona- you're a funny one, then, eh boy?" The officer smirked at him; after over 27 years on the force, he'd seen all the tricks, and wasn't affected by the mocking tone Alex was trying to convey. "Now, tell me your name, and we'll contact your parents. You're not in any trouble, boy, but you'll be worse off if you don't co-operate."

Alex knew he wouldn't get far with this man; his instincts told him that the man had patience, and would, in the end, get his name out of him. One way or another.

"Alex. Alex Galloway," he finally gave in.

"Good, now, we need you to hand in anything you have on your person. And don't try to hide anything; you'll be getting searched afterwards, and they'll find whatever you've got."

Alex did as the man said, moving as slowly as possible to try to portray reluctance. However, Alex didn't have anything on him; Smithers hadn't given him anything that the officers could take. He shook out his pockets to show the officer he didn't have anything.

"Nothing, eh? You sure about that?" At Alex's nod, he continued, "You'll have to take the earring out; could be used as a weapon." Alex did as he said, wincing slightly as he pulled it out.

"Alright, lad. Longbottom! Search him for me, will ya? Now, what's your home number - we need to contact your parents."

Looking glum, Alex shrugged his shoulders, putting his head down.

"Don't 'ave any parents."

As his head was down, he didn't see the looks exchanged between the two men.

"I see. Well, then. Longbottom, if you're done, take him to cell 17. Should be empty. Now, boy. You're not under arrest as such, but we need you to be put in a cell so you don't run off, okay?"

Again, Alex nodded. Taking the hint that he was dismissed, Longbottom took a hold of his arm, and dragged him to cell 17, a room with less than a metres walking space, and a stone bench.

Shutting the door behind him as he went, Longbottom couldn't resist mocking him slightly.

"Try to get some rest, kiddo! Where you're going is gonna be worse than here!"

Ignoring the man, Alex finally looked up when he was gone. Placing his back to the wall, Alex sat, and waited for someone to come and collect him.

It was over five hours later when Alex was finally released. A woman named Lauren came to collect him, and after collecting his ear-stud from the officer on desk duty, took him to her car and to the orphanage.

On the drive there, she asked about who he was, why he hadn't gone into a home previously, how long he'd been living alone, before she told him about the rules of the home.

Initially, they were simple; stay out of trouble, be home by 8o'clock - weekdays and weekends, follow what the adults say, don't fight or steal, and don't graffiti the home.

Other rules would come about when they got to the home, but those were the basics and the obvious.

As she talked, Alex got to have a look at her; slim build with brown hair, her arms - or what Alex could see of them - were slightly muscled. She looked tired, but that could be due to her running and orphanage and taking care of who knows how many people. _I really doubt that the children__'__s homes in real life are _anything_ like Tracy Beaker._ He didn't know whether she was an ex-cherub, but there was a possibility there.

When they arrived, Alex didn't know what to expect; although he didn't have parents himself, he'd never had to go to a home because his uncle and Jack had been there for him.

Following Lauren inside, she took him to her office, and again explained the rules to him.

"The police officers told me you didn't have any clothes on you, correct?"

Alex just nodded, not wanting to speak.

"Right, then. You'll have to wear the spare clothing until we can get more clothes for you." She stood up, and gestured for him to follow her out of the door. She took him to a cupboard, and told him to "Pick a couple pairs of clothes out of these; a couple of tops and a couple of jeans. Make sure they fit you. We don't store underwear, but we'll take you shopping tomorrow so you can get some." She paused, waiting for Alex to make his choices, and after doing so, shut and locked the cupboard again before leading him to another room.

"Right, pop the clothes in the washing machine, and I'll show you how to use it. You have to do your own washing in here, so it'll be good practice," Again, she paused, waiting for Alex to do as she said, before showing him how to operate the machine - even though he knew how to do it; Jack wasn't one to like washing, and as such, taught Alex how to do it when he was twelve. "It means that you'll have to sleep in the clothes you're wearing tonight, because they'll be too wet, but they should be dry by tomorrow. Oh, and make sure you collect them in a couple of hours or else someone will take them and put them somewhere. Then you'll have nothing." She paused, thinking of whether or not there was anything else. Finding that there was, she continued, "Oh, and as for your room, you'll be on the boys floor. You'll be placed in your age group room. You'll have to find someone to show you where you'll be staying. I've got paperwork to do."

The woman looked at him, but Alex just watched the washing machine, staying still. Finally, she left, leaving him alone to his musings. Although he could have maybe said something to make her interested in him, he opted not too; this was his first day in a children's home, and it wouldn't be normal for a child to do anything but want to be alone.

When he knew she was out of ear-shot, he finally spoke.

"I know you're there, so you may as well just come out."

Silence greeted him, and he smiled.

"Think I'm talking to myself? You two behind the machines, with brown hair. I know you're there."

**Before you lot ask why Alex is being witty and slightly a rebel it****'****s because he****'****s **_**in character**_**. Remember in Snakehead when he had to not speak, and be weak? Yeah, that was **_**in character**_** too. Please don****'****t comment and say that Alex is too rude, or too snappy, or too whatever. Thank you.**

**Can I also just say that coming up with people****'****s names is **_**hard**_**? Took me 10 minutes just to come up with the police officer****'****s surnames. Jeez Louise. Yeah, Longbottom was the best I could come up with - an old music teacher of mine in Secondary School was called that. We always called her Longnose due to her having a long nose****…**** children are cruel. And uncreative.**

**Remember to visit my site for a load of ramblings and update information of this story and Escape - visit my profile page, and the link should be on there.**

**Anyway, review away, please. Any guesses as to who are behind the washing machine?**


	4. Meat'ings and Looking Around

**So sorry that it's taken me so long to write; I've gotten 9 chapters written, though, and just wrote him getting into cherub. Woo!**

**Hopefully, you****'****ll be happy with this chapter. I found that whilst it****'****s slow moving, it just felt right. Like I****'****ve said before, I don****'****t want to rush the story along. In real books, they wouldn****'****t work like that, otherwise the story would be over in, like, 50 pages. Which wouldn****'****t sell.**

**Alright, so we meet some Cherub people in this chapter. That****'****s all I****'****m going to say right now on the subject.**

**Warning: Language**

**Disclaimer: I don****'****t own AR/Cherub**

**Thanks go to Edrick for beta'ing this chapter and future chapters, and who gave me heaps of advice and directions on where it will go.**

Chapter Four

"_I know you__'__re there, so you may as well just come out.__"_

_Silence greeted him, and he smiled._

"_Think I__'__m talking to myself? You two behind the machines, with black hair. I know you__'__re there.__"_

_Alex Rider_

"How did you know we were here?" Alex couldn't help but smirk, but kept his head down so they wouldn't see.

"Brown hair amongst white washing machines? Pretty obvious. Not to mention the fingers _on top_ of the washing machine was a dead giveaway." He said, the smirk now evident in his voice.

"Shit," one of the boys said, before they both stood up from their crouched position.

Alex could instantly tell they were twins; their looks so similar, as well as their height, eye colour and hair colour. Identical twins. The only thing that different about them was their top colour; one was in the latest Arsenal home football shirt, the other in the Arsenal away football shirt.

They, too, were taking him in; looking first at his face, then at his clothes.

"So, you're twins. Double trouble?"

The boys looked at each other, before smiling, dimples in their cheeks.

"Oh yes, neither of us can get in trouble 'cause if one of us does something, they can't tell who dunnit, so neither of us gets punished," said the boy in the home shirt. "Well, sometimes they punish us both, but whatever."

"So what're your names then?" Alex directed at the twins, changing the topic.

"I'm Connor," the boy in the home shirt said, "and he's Callum," he pointed at the other boy. Connor must be the more out-going twin, as Callum stayed quiet. "And you're Meat."

"Meat?" Alex asked, confused.

"Yeah, you know, like a new person? Fresh meat? You're new, so you're Meat," Callum finally spoke, "It's nothing against you… everyone gets called Meat to start with." He paused, thinking. "Well, we got called Meat one and Meat two, 'cause there was two of us."

Connor looked at him, before speaking, "Anyway, you want us to show you around? It's best you know straight away where you can and can't go-"

"There're places you can't go?" Alex interrupted, skeptical.

"Oh yeah. Well, some people can go there, but we can't 'cause we're too young and not 'right' cause there's two of us."

"So, you're not allowed to go some places because there's two of you?" He guessed these were the 'other' rules that Lauren had told him he'd be told about.

"Yeah."

"That's stupid."

Again, both boys looked at each other, as though a message was passed from one to the other.

"Yeah, well, they're stupid in here. You want us to show you around or what?"

Alex agreed, and followed them out the doorway.

Their first stop was the back room that led out onto the garden. In it were three very old and worn sofas, a television and four mismatched chairs at a rectangular table with various drinks on top.

Four kids were in this room, between the ages of, at a guess, ten and sixteen. The eldest, a blonde haired boy, took up a sofa himself, while the younger children sat on the floor. Only he was watching the TV, in which Alex could see a chase between very expensive cars was going on. Alex remembered this scene from one of the _Terminator_ movies, although he couldn't tell which one.

"You're allowed in this room, but unless you're fifteen or older, you're not allowed on the chairs. You 'afta sit on the floor," Connor said.

"Come on. We'll show you the kitchen."

Again, Alex followed the boys, this time into the kitchen. It was a messy place, and was significantly dissimilar to Alex's kitchen at home. Although it had a gas hob, cupboards and a kettle in the room, it also had two fridges, three ovens another three sinks. All of which were dirty, with unwashed plates and oily cutlery piled in them. The fridges and ovens had streaks of grease on them, and rotted left-overs littered the floor at certain corners. _Hygiene standards must clearly not be a priority in this place_, Alex mused.

"Anyone's allowed in here, although you can't take anything from the fridge just before or after lunch. Unless it's a drink. You're allowed one of those at any time, although unless it's water or juice, you're limited to having one fizzy drink a day," Callum explained.

Alex just nodded, taking everything in.

"Oh, and you'll most likely be put on washing up duty for the first couple of weeks while you're here, unless the elders like you and say otherwise."

At this, Alex was confused as to who the 'elders' where. The adults?

"Elders?" He asked.

"Yeah, those who are fifteen or older. The adults said that we're supposed to sit down on a Sunday night and come up with routines on who's got what duty so that we have some responsibility and stuff, but the adults just can't be bothered to make the routines 'cause they know the elders'll never like it and complain to them, so instead they said we should manage it," Connor replied, with traces of unhappiness in his voice. "Anyway, the elders say that they'll keep their rooms tidy and the rest of us have to do stuff like bathroom cleaning and washing up 'n' all that."

The boy was clearly miffed at having to do so much work, and Alex was sympathetic with them; they'd have to put up with it a lot longer than Alex would; at the most, he'd only have to deal with it for a month. These boys could be here until they were sixteen and old enough to go to a half-way house by themselves if they so wished.

"Anyway, they'll put you on kitchen duty, 'cause you're old enough to be around knives and that," Callum said, but paused when it came to Alex's age. "Actually, how old are you?" He asked.

"Um, I'm thirteen." remembering his new age, he almost said he was fifteen.

They both looked at him, squinting almost.

"You look older than thirteen," Connor stated.

Alex shrugged, trying to seem as if he was told that everyday, "yeah, I know. I'm just big for my age."

"Right," they obviously didn't believe him, but they couldn't really say he was lying; after all, if he _was_ lying, they probably figured that it'd come out some time if someone overheard the adults talking about him.

Deciding not to pursue the matter, the boys continued on, and they showed him the games room. Or rather, the games room door. They weren't allowed in there, and so couldn't enter.

"You're not supposed to go in here, either, unless you're invited," Callum elaborated when he took in Alex's raised eyebrows at the door.

"And you've not been invited, either, shit head, so move on."

At the new voice, both twins instantly moved away from the door, but Alex, not knowing, stood his ground and looked towards the girls who had spoken.

"Why can't they go in? It's a free space. Anyone should be allowed in," Alex said to the girl.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't dignify him with a response. Instead, she grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the way, pushing past him into the room.

The twins looked at him, before looking down, almost simultaneously.

"You really shouldn't piss one of the elders off, Meat. They'll just beat you up if you do." One of them said - with their heads down, Alex wasn't sure which one spoke, but guessed it was Connor.

"I'm not afraid of them," Alex stated; and that's all it was, a statement. He wasn't trying to be tough. He just really wasn't afraid of them. After facing many bad guys who wanted to kill him, kids his age - even if they thought he was younger than he was - didn't scare him.

"You should be. If you piss one of 'em off, you'll hafta face all of 'em," again, Alex couldn't tell which one spoke.

Deciding this was an opportunity to get Cherub interested in him, Alex mentioned his training in Karate.

"Yeah, well. I'm a black belt in Karate. And I've done some other martial arts training, too," he smiled ruthlessly, "not all of it legal, so I'm a mean opponent." Again, he smiled, even if this time it was forced. Alex had had to do some martial arts during his snakehead mission, including participating in _Muay Tai_, although unwillingly.

This got the two boys' attention. They looked at him, then at each other. Finally, they grinned.

"I've suddenly got the feeling that you're only going to be my friend because of my martial arts…"

The boys, together, snickered.

Deciding not to linger in case another 'elder' came along, the boys moved on. This time, they showed him the upstairs rooms.

"The first floor is the adult's rooms. You're not allowed on their floor unless it's an emergency. Normally, they're not in their rooms anyway, but you're still not allowed in them." Conner said. As they went to the next flight of stairs, again Alex wasn't allowed to see the rooms.

"Second floor is the girls' rooms. You're not allowed on their floor unless for a proper reason. The adults banned us from their floor, because the elders, well… you know," Connor stammered slightly, blushing.

The other twin grinned at him mischievously, "No, Connor, I don't think I do know. Why don't you tell me?" Again he grinned.

Connor didn't, though, instead punching his brother's arm and shoving him further up the stairs.

Alex laughed at the two boys' antics, finding them strangely amusing.

On the next floor, Alex was finally allowed to enter.

"And this floor is for the boys. The best floor, of course," Connor grinned, whilst Callum huffed at him. "You'll be in with us 'cause you're our age. There's six rooms, one for ten year olds, one for eleven year olds and so on… I'm sure you get the picture."

The boys led him to a door with a sign on it that said "13 - boys only." Across from the room was another door that said "bathroom - boys only." Alex realised he'd have to share it with many other boys, some older than him and some younger, and a slight shudder ran through him.

"Welcome to your new home!" Connor almost yelled out when they stopped at his new room.

Opening the door, the twins stepped inside and let Alex follow them in.

Inside were ten beds, five on each side of the room. The layout kind of reminded him of his time in the SAS, with the beds in his hut being separated by lockers. It was exactly like that, although the room was much brighter and more lived in.

At each side of the bed was a fairly large locker, each with a padlock locking it shut. Alex assumed that any clothes or possessions the kids owned would be locked up so that no one could steal their things, because very little else in the form of personal belongings were in the room.

Three boys, each around thirteen, were in the room. One of them, a dark-haired boy, greeted the twins while the other two ignored them.

"CC! You's don't normally come in 'ere at this time of day! What yas doin' in 'ere?"

"Showing Meat 'round, Chris." Connor began. "He's gonna be sleeping in here with us."

The boy, Chris, looked at Alex, almost as if he were sizing him up.

"You can pick any of those three beds near the door. The rest are taken," Callum pointed at the beds, before whispering to Alex, "Although you shouldn't take the one closest to the door; you'll get beaten up otherwise 'cause it shows weakness or something."

Alex nodded, as if agreeing, and sat down on the free bed farthest away from the door.

Connor, ignoring the two, spoke again to Chris. "Meat here knows Karate. Apparently a black belt, and he's done some other martial arts, too. Or so he ses. It'll be good to have him on our side if the elders pick a fight with us."

Chris looked to Alex, again as if sizing him up. "Does he now? Wanna fight, Meat? Play-fight, of course. We can't fight properly 'cause the adults'll find out someway. They always do."

There was no way Alex could say no. If he did, it would look as if he had lying about his martial arts abilities, as well as making him look weak; an easy target.

"Um, sure." He agreed.

Chris grinned, getting off his bed, and moved towards Alex. Standing a meter or so from him, Chris suddenly moved, raising his fist from his side straight into Alex's face. Or where Alex's face had been a second ago.

Alex had anticipated that Chris would fight dirty; this _was_ a kids home, and Chris had more than likely been taught to fight on the streets. _No initialising the fight by bowing for him._

So when Chris had went to punch, Alex had ducked and moved to the opposite side of the fist. Leaping up slightly, Alex grabbed onto Chris's out-stretched arm and pulled on it, unbalancing the boy. Bringing his elbow up, he whacked it into the front of Chris's arm, making him bend forwards. Kicking his foot out, Alex swiped the other boys' ankle, and knocked him to the ground. Pinning him with one arm behind his back, Alex knelt on Chris's back and told him that he won.

Chris wasn't a sore loser, and when Alex let him up, grinned at Alex and declared that it would be 'good to have him on our side.'

Alex noticed that again, the twins were looking at each other, and again were grinning. _Do they grin at everything?_ Alex wondered.

For the rest of the day, and night, Alex stayed in his new room, only venturing out to collect his clean clothing. Twisting the clothes out in the sink next to the machines, Alex carried the now wet-but-not-dripping clothes to his new room. He hung them on the radiators, where the other boys had told him to, and soon after went to sleep.

**Alright, so what****'****d you think? Like I said at the top of the page, I****'****m taking this slow, trying to give you all of the deets like you would find in a book.**

**Please note: I have never been to a children****'****s home before, and whilst I****'****m guessing it****'****s nothing like the Tracy Beaker television programme, we****'****re everything is pretty much hunky-dory, I don****'****t actually know how things work or what goes on in them. I****'****m assuming, though, that the older the people in there, and the longer they****'****ve been there, the darker they are****…**

**Anyway, review, please.**


	5. Shopping

**Thanks for th****e continued support on this FanFic, and keep those reviews coming!**

**Alright, so this should move us along a little. Maybe in a couple of chapters time - or three - Alex will be at Cherub. Note the ****'****Maybe****'****, please.**

**Thanks go to Edrick for the beta'ing.**

**Disclaimer: I don****'****t own Alex Rider/ Cherub, sadly.**

Chapter Five

_Alex Rider_

_For the rest of the day, and night, Alex stayed in his new room, only venturing out to collect his clean clothing. Twisting the clothes out in the sink next to the machines, Alex carried the damp clothes to his new room. He hung them on the radiators, where the other boys had told him to, and soon after went to sleep._

When Alex was awakened the next day by a knock on the day and a "time to get up," he didn't have a clue what time it was. Clocks were possessions not allowed in the room because there'd been too many broken that the care home didn't want to pay for anymore. Instead, if you wanted to know the time, you had to buy a watch, have a friend that had a watch and would tell you the time, or go downstairs and turn on the television, using that as a clock.

Because the other boys in his room were pulling out black trousers, white shirts, ties and blazers, he guessed that the time was somewhere around seven in the morning. In other words - _time to get changed for school _time.

Not sure on what he should do, he, too, got up with the others and pulled on his jeans and socks, slipping into his trainers as he got off his bed. He left the top Smither's had given him in his wardrobe where he had left it last night, only wearing his vest and boxers to bed. Walking over to the radiator, he grabbed the now dry t-shirt he'd put into the washing machine the previous day, and pulled it on.

Done with dressing, he turned to the other boys.

"What am I supposed to do today? Go to school with you lot?" he asked, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

Connor was the one who answered. "Nah, you get to stay here today. You have to go see Lauren," he told him. "She'll go over some stuff with you, and give you a school uniform. You'll most probably go to school with us tomorrow."

"Or if you're unlucky, you'll come later on this afternoon." Callum continued on with a smirk on his face.

"Er, right. I'll see you later, then." With that, Alex left the room, first going to the bathroom and doing his business. He realised, as he washed his hands in the sink, that he didn't have anything to brush his teeth with. Sighing, he walked down the stairs to Lauren's office.

Knocking on the door, he heard a faint 'come in' and opened the office door.

Lauren sat at her desk, and when the door opened, she looked up, noticing Alex in the doorway.

Inviting him in, she told him to take a seat.

"So Alex, how are you coping so far?" She questioned, getting the pleasantries out of the way.

Thinking a boy in his position would be fairly rebellious, he only stared at her, muttering a quiet "fine" to convey his feelings across and waited for her to speak again.

"Good, good. I'm assuming you've learnt your way around by now?" Not waiting for his reply, she continued on, "This is one of the better care homes in London, and as such we expect certain things from you. Firstly is that you try not to get into any fights. You'll just be punished, and have an enemy or two for the rest of your stay. Secondly, we expect you to only go into the boys rooms and stay away from the girls' floor. Preferably, we would ask that you stay in your room only, but if you have friends of different ages - ah, I forgot to mention to you about the rooms, didn't I?" She paused, thinking of what to say, "We categorize the children here by sex, then age group. It would be unfair for a sixteen year old to have to put up with a ten year old, and likewise a ten year old to stay with a sixteen year old due to them being smaller and weaker. The sixteen year old would more than likely pick on the younger child, so we keep the age groups separate if we can.

"Now then, thirdly, we expect you to go to school and come home on time. Although I'm sure you don't enjoy school, it is the law that you go, I'm afraid. Fourthly, if you want to go anywhere outside of school and the grounds of the home, please tell an adult where you're going, and roughly how long you'll be gone. As a teenage child, we know you may make friends in school, and we don't think it's fair that they would get to go out with friends, and you not. We allow flexibility, but don't push us or you'll be on house arrest. This means you won't be able to go anywhere for a specified time except to school. Are those rules clear, Alex?" She finally stopped talking, and allowed Alex to speak.

"Um, yeah, that's fine by me, Lauren. Can I ask you some questions?" He said hesitantly; he didn't know how to address her, or if he was allowed to ask such thing.

"Of course you can. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask." A simple 'yes' would have been fine for Alex, but obviously this woman loved the sound of her own voice.

"I don't have any clothes except for these, and you said something about shopping yesterday? I was wondering when we were going to go. Oh, and I need a toothbrush, too."

"Oh, yes, shopping. I forgot about that. Each child, when coming here, has a limit of £50 given to us by the government for clothes and toiletries. Sometimes, the clothes cost more, and we can exceed this number depending on the case if we need more money. We can go shopping now, but on the way there I need to ask you some questions about your background, if that's okay?"

"Sure."

Lauren stood, and walked to the door, "Come on then. Shopping it is."

When they got inside her car, and they started to drive to the closest shopping centre, she started to ask him questions.

"I know this may be hard for you, Alex, but we must know how your parents died, and if you have any living relatives. The police confirmed to us that your parents are, uh, no longer with us, by the way, but without a heap load of paperwork, they wouldn't tell us more."_ So that explains why the police contacted social services straight away, and believed me when I said I had no parents._ Alex thought to himself.

"My father was killed when I was three. My mother moved us away afterwards, afraid that those who killed him would come after us. We moved to my aunt's house, but they came there, too. I was shot, but survived. We moved again, this time to London. Anyway, those people came after us again. Last month they killed mum and my aunt. That's it, really." Alex said, trying to put an emotionless tone in his voice as if he - or Alex Galloway, anyway - didn't care about it.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Alex." She stated, sympathetically. Alex just shrugged his shoulders in return, looking out the passenger side window.

"Do you know who came after you?" She enquired.

"Yeah, it was some gang. My dad got into some trouble or something, and they came after him, then my mum, too."

"I see. And do you think this 'gang' will come after you again, Alex?"

Again, Alex shrugged, but for a different reason. "I don't know if they'll come after me again. They killed my parents, and my aunt, and that might be enough for them. I was just three when they got involved in whatever it was; I didn't have anything to do with it."

"And do you know what gang this was, Alex?" She looked at him for a second, then looked forward, continually driving.

"Nope. Like I said, I was just a baby when they came. I don't know who it was, and my mum never told me who they were."

"Hmm. Do you have any living relatives, Alex? If we can avoid it, we'd prefer you not to have to live in a care home, and instead have you living with someone you know." She changed the topic, gotten the answers she wanted from him on the previous line of questioning.

"Nope. There was just my auntie, but she's dead now, too."

"You seem to be handling things well, Alex."

"When life gives you lemons…" he stated, leaving his sentence hanging.

"Is there anything we can do to help you through these sad times?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

"Right, then. In two or three weeks, we'll most probably ask you to come to another question and answer session. This'll be to get you a campaign started for someone to adopt you; although younger children are adopted more than your age are, some of you still get adopted or taken into foster care," she declared, before adding, "personally, I think you're a very good boy, Alex. Compared to some of the other children your age that have come into the care system, you're very calm and accepting. Stay out of trouble and you'll have a higher chance of getting adopted."

Nodding to show he was listening, Alex didn't say anything further. When they arrived at the shopping centre, she took him to Primark.

"Primark is cheaper than the other stores, and has good quality clothes, even if they aren't branded. The cheaper the clothes, though, the more you can buy."

Again, Alex nodded his head.

"Right, well then, pick up stuff you want to buy, and then we'll leave for somewhere else."

Alex did as she said, moving around the store. It being a weekday, the shop was emptier and quieter than it would have been on a weekend because the children were at school. It meant that they didn't linger long, and there was a lot of stock in Alex's size.

He picked up two packets of boxers, each with six underwear inside for £1.69 per pack. Moving onto socks, he again picked up two packets of those, each with seven pairs inside for the same price as the boxers.

Next, he looked at the tops, Lauren following behind him with a bag of his purchases. He went for the men's basics, choosing colours in black, grey and dark blue, staying away from the brightly coloured ones. He chose eight of these so he'd have a varied selection, and enough to wear one a day for a week without needing to do washing, before going to look at the summer- jackets. He picked two of these, both black that fit him perfectly with plenty of pockets that either zipped or buttoned shut.

Lauren interrupted his shopping, questioning his choices.

"Wouldn't you like something more… colourful, Alex?" She almost hesitated in asking this question, almost treating him like a small child.

"Darker colours are better; it makes it easier to hide in case I'll ever need to, or at least that's what mum told me," he said, trying to sound spy-like so that if she were an ex-agent, she would pick up on it. "Same with the pockets; the more pockets, the less likely I'll have to carry stuff in my hands. If I ever got in a fight, it'll mean I'll have my hands empty."

"Oh, and why would you be in a fight?"

He smirked, as if the answer should be obvious "Lady, I'm a thirteen year old boy. I'm in a children's home. There's a _very_ high chance that I'll be in a fight of some sort. Not to mention I'm the son of a gang lord. Ex gang lord."

She simply nodded, and they carried on shopping. He noticed that she looked at him as they weaved in and out of the stands of clothes, taking in that he moved easily amongst the other customers in the closely packed store, hardly ever bumping into anyone his movements were so smooth.

For trousers, he chose three pairs of jeans, one a dark blue that was almost black, and two normal blue. He had to look normal _sometimes._

He didn't really believe that he would need the dark clothing to hide. It was more that he guessed if he wasn't picked up to go to Cherub, he'd more than likely have to do some sneaking around. _Always thinking ahead_.

With that, Alex was done in _Primark_. After paying for their items, Alex still had £28.87 left to spend on clothing.

The next shop they headed to was _T.K Maxx_. Again, this was a store that didn't really purchase branded clothing, so it was cheaper.

After looking around in the men's section of the store, Alex chose a heavier long black jacket than the two he'd bought in _Primark_. Making sure it fit him, he folded it over his arm and carried it to the tills. Once done in that store, they headed to _Sports World_, where Alex chose another pair of trainers. When that was done, Alex had spent just under his allotted amount.

"Right, now you said something about needing a toothbrush, correct?" Lauren asked, patient as she helped him carry his purchases.

"Yeah, we can get a cheap one in _Superdrug_, most probably. It's next door to _Sports World._" He'd noticed the store earlier as they'd entered _Sports World,_ and had made a mental note to visit that store next.

Nodding her head, she led him to the store and they bought a new toothbrush for him, as well as some bathroom necessities like shampoo and shower gel.

"For school clothes, you've got another £25. We need three shirts for you, two black trousers and black shoes. The tie and blazer you'll be borrowing from the stock we've got at the home. Head to M&S for the clothes, will you?"

Alex did as she said, and there they bought him his clothes. For shoes, she took him to _Barratts._

Done with shopping for the day, they drove back to the home where she gave him a lock and key for a locker in his bedroom.

"Make sure the clothes you aren't using are locked away at all times, unless you're in the room with them," she warned him. "Kids in here will take whatever they can, even if we do discourage it."

With that, she left him alone and went back to her office.

Having the rest of the day to himself, he unpacked his stuff then wandered around the room. As he went to each boy's bed, he made sure to note where everything was placed, and how it was placed. He started with the boys closest to the windows' beds, but found nothing. When he came to Chris's bed, he looked under the pillow and found a photo of what must have been his parents, hugging the boy to them, smiles on their faces. He put the picture back under, and went to Connor's bed. He searched under the bed first, but finding nothing but a school book, of which he searched through - nothing suspicious - he then searched under the boy's pillow. Again, he found nothing, but as he was retracting his hand, something bumpy touched the back of it.

Looking into the pillowcase, he found what had touched him; a blue metal device that looked fairly like an electric screwdriver, but smaller, about the size of the palm of his hand. Confused and unsure of what it was, he put it back in the same place he had found it.

He thought that if there was anything else the boys were hiding, it would be in their lockers. Although the saying goes that if you wanted to hide something, you'd hide it in plain sight and it's less likely to be found, if anything was left out in the open in the kids home, it'd be nicked. Therefore, lockers would be the ideal place to store what mysteries the boys were hiding.

Moving on, he searched the other boys' beds, but found nothing to be suspicious about. He decided to look in the other rooms in the home, scoping out the area.

Firstly, he entered the forbidden space; the games room.

He could see why it appealed to the older kids; an Xbox 360 was attached to a flat-screen TV that had seen better days. The Xbox itself, however, was encased in a glass box, presumably so that no one could take it, and in case anything happened in this room, it wouldn't be broken. He saw on the wall next to the TV was a few shelves with DVDs and games on it.

Next, there were two leather couches that looked pretty comfortable. In the middle of the room was a pool table; the cues attached to the wall next to the sofas. Because the elders were always in this room, and they were the most violent, Alex had expected this room to be pretty trashy, but it wasn't. A couch cushion was on the floor, a few dents where in the walls, but other than that, the room was alright.

Deciding not to linger in case any of the children came home early, Alex then went to the kitchen and got himself some food; he hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, and a drink.

As Alex was finishing up in the kitchen, washing his dishes, some of the younger children came home. Each went their own way; some to their rooms and others to the back room.

He, himself, went to his room, and waited for the others to come home.

**Alright, so boring chapter, with not much happening; yes, I hate it when people do the stuff with the clothes, but what can ya do? Next chapter will be a bit more exciting than this one, I think.**

**Anyway, please review; tell me what you want happening, and maybe I****'****ll try to incorporate it into here.**


	6. New Day, New School

**Thank you to all those who reviewed :D I do take my time to read them all, and to reply to them - if I can. If I haven****'****t replied to your review, it****'****s because you left an anonymous one and I can****'****t reply to those.**

**So, I****'****m not too sure about this chapter; I don****'****t like the ending, but it **_**is**_** necessary. I think. **

**I hope there hasn't been any mistakes in this chapter where something I've written in this one doesn't match up with the ones previous published.**

**Anyway, the next chapter****'****ll be up On New Years Day. I promise.**

**And thanks go to my beta Edrick, whom I'm glad pushed me into writing more chapters for this story, and for making sure there aren't any spelling/grammar mistakes, as well as changing bits and bobs around.**

**Disclaimer: I don****'****t own Alex Rider/ Cherub, sadly.**

Chapter 6

_Alex Rider_

After his first full day of doing nothing but shopping, snooping, talking to the twins and Chris, Alex was nervous of what the next day would bring; he'd be returning to school, a new school where people would know he was an orphan.

The only good thing about it would be that he was to be repeating the previous year; it would mean he could demonstrate his intelligence in some subjects because he'd already studied the material they would be teaching that year. While he wouldn't always display his intelligence - he didn't want to be labeled as the new kid _and_ a swot - it would make things easier for him.

At the seven o'clock wake-up knock, he dressed with the other boys - he'd gotten his tie and blazer from a storage Connor had taken him to - then went downstairs for breakfast. They ate in another room Alex hadn't seen before that held thirteen tables which seated six to each. Afterwards he joined the boys in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and making sure there was no left over food on his chin.

After that, he picked up his school bag that he'd been given with his uniform that had two pens, a ruler, pencil and calculator in it. Books, he'd been told, would be given to him in each of his classes. Then, he walked with Connor, Callum and Chris to his new school.

On the way, they walked past the Tesco store where he saw Jack, looking at her mobile phone; he'd told her to do that to make her less conspicuous. In this day and age, it wouldn't be that uncommon for someone to be looking at their mobile phones whilst they waited for the store to open.

As they walked past her, he nudged her with his arm slightly - their secret code to tell her he was alright.

He heard her sigh quietly in response, yet still stood in the doorway as if still waiting for Tesco to open.

The other boys hadn't noticed the interaction, too busy complaining about having to walk to school, then having to actually _go_ to school, as if the journey to school hinted that they didn't actually have to go.

"Just wait, Meat. I bet you'll be put in Stanton's tutor. Every newbie's put into his tutor. He's horrible, a real bastard. He got chips banned from the menu at the beginning of the new term because too many kids were too fat. We're only allowed them every other Wednesday. Now, we have to eat _fruit_ and _salad_. Ugh." Connor complained, as if not being able to eat chips meant the end of the world. "Like stopping us eating chips is going to make us skinny," he scoffed.

"Yeah, and if he catches you with sweets, he takes 'em off you and makes you have break-time detentions for a week!" Callum whined in, obviously as displeased by the man as his twin.

"It's true. He's a P.E teacher, and everyone hates him, but no one dares say anything 'cause there was this rumour that he used to be a cage-fighter, and you don't want to get on the bad side of a cage-fighter, you know?"

The boys kept on easily chattering away, telling him about which teachers you can mess with, and who you can't.

Alex just listened to them, until something they were said caught his attention.

"Yeah, well, me and Callum could totally tag-team him," Connor grinned, "we're black-belts in karate, and we've been training for _years_, in a proper dojo and stuff before we came here."

Alex could tell by Callum's face that he was not pleased with his brothers' topic of conversation. Silently, he wondered why; it was less likely they'd be beaten up if others knew they could defend themselves. Unless they were lying, although this thought didn't sit well with Alex's opinion of the boys. He kept quiet, watching and listening more aptly to the twins than before.

He noticed things that he hadn't before; their slightly toned body, like his own, with no fat. A couple of scars on their arms, indicating that they'd been in fights before, or at the very least preferred to be outdoors and accident prone, which again didn't sit well with his picture of them.

He thought back to conversations he'd had with them; they were always guarded in what they were saying, just like himself.

There was something odd about the two boys. Very odd.

When he arrived at the school, the twins went their own way to their classroom. They were notorious in the school, Chris explained to him, for being late. As such, they had to go straight to their tutor rooms when they arrived on school grounds. It meant that they couldn't wander off because a teacher would be there to meet them.

Chris showed him the way to the Student Reception, where a woman with dyed red and orange hair sat, looking prim in a suit and her back straight. Obviously, she wasn't a woman to be messed with.

She didn't look up as the two stood behind the counter, and Chris finally knocked on the desk.

When she looked up, Alex decided to be the one to talk to her, "er, I'm new here," he almost stammered, unsure what to say, never having had to go to a new public school before. "Chris told me I had to come here to get my time table?"

He had her attention now. "Ah, yes. Alex Galloway, correct?" At his nod, she continued, "Right then. This is your starter pack. It includes your time table, a list of the equipment you'll need, rules you'll need to look at, then sign your consent at bottom that you agree to obey it, as well as a map of the school," She opened up the pack, and took out the contents, pointing to each sheet of paper as she mentioned them. "There are five separate buildings; one for dinner, one a sports hall," she pointed to them on the map, "and then two buildings house many different subjects. In this building here, there is a main computer room. I'm sure Chris will explain this to you. In this other building, there's another sports hall, but it also has new science labs. Please take care of the property in this building."

She finally paused for breath, before continuing. "Now, you'll be placed into Mr Stanton's class. His room is in the science building, second floor, room number P.E 4. Just go out the doors, and turn left to get to his building. I'm sure you can find your way from there. If not, ask one of the teachers for help. Have a good day, Alex." The woman put the papers back into the wallet, handed them to Alex, then turned to her computer.

Alex took this as a sign of dismissal, and he and Chris walked out of the Student Reception.

"That woman scares the crap outta me," Chris interrupted the silence that had befallen on the boys. "It's like she's got some stick up her bum. I mean, she doesn't even let you get a word in edgeways. And trust me, if you do, you'll pay for it. Snapping at you like… like… well, she just snaps at you." He ranted, "how she got a job in a children's school I'll never know."

Alex snorted, amused at his friend's ramblings.

"I'm telling you! She gives me the heebee jeebee's."

As they walked into the science building, Chris took him up the stairs to his tutor room, before declaring that he was just down the corridor in R.S 1. He stood with Alex, though, and they people-watched for most of the time before the first bell went, a warning to students to get to their class. Leaving Alex to fend for himself, Chris walked off.

When Alex got into the classroom, he immediately saw that it was already almost half-way full. The teacher, dressed in a sports tracksuit with the logo of their school printed on his top and bottom, was at the front of the classroom looking at a computer. There was an empty seat close to the back of the room, and he decided to sit there as that space was open. Placing his school bag on the table, he waited for whatever was supposed to happen next.

A second bell went, which he assumed meant that tutor was to officially start. It did. The teacher looked up from his computer, staring at everyone in the room before he spotted Alex.

"Ah, a new student. Mr. Galloway, I presume?" At this, most of the class looked towards the boy. Alex maintained a neutral face and nodded; not showing any weakness, hoping to deter any bullies picking on him.

"Everyone, this is Alex Galloway. He's been transferred from Unity Secondary school. I'm sure you'll all welcome him warmly." The man almost sneered at this, but left it at that, thankfully. He looked back to his desk and grabbed what the school called a "planner" - which was more like a diary where he was to record whatever homework he was given in, - and a dinner card before he walked to Alex and handed the items to him. Then, he turned and went back to the front of the room and sat in his chair, typing away at his computer. Shortly after, he began to read out student's names, doing the register. Alex followed the other students, saying a 'yes' where necessary.

Before the man got to the end of the register, however, the door was roughly shoved open by a tall boy - just taller in height than Alex.

"Ah, Darren. I'm so _glad_ you decided to deign us with your presence," again, Mr Stanton sneered, this time directed at Darren. Obviously, this wasn't a man who enjoyed teaching.

"'Course, sir! Wouldn't miss a chance to be in your presence any day!" The boy said back, mocking Stanton in a girly voice.

Darren continued to his desk where, unfortunately, Alex was sitting. The tall boy squinted his eyes at him, and Alex just raised his eyebrows in response. This seemed to aggravate the boy even further, and when he finally reached the desk, he spat in a low voice "you're in my seat, newbie."

"I didn't realise it was your seat," Alex replied, "I assumed because, you know, England's a free country and all, it was anyone's seat."

Darren got even angrier at this; it wasn't wise to argue with him.

"Get out of my seat. _Now_."

"Sir! Is there a seating arrangement in here?" Alex asked of the teacher. When he got a negative reply, and the teacher had looked back to the computer, Alex turned back to Darren. "There isn't a seating arrangement, Darren. That means I can sit where I please. And I'm sitting here - I'm sure you can either sit next to me or go somewhere else." Normally, Alex would have just moved over a seat, but then again, _normally _he wouldn't be in this situation. He decided to play up the bad boy aspect of Alex _Galloway_'s life.

Darren didn't like this; people were watching the encounter. If he were to just sit somewhere else but _his_ seat, he would become weak in their eyes. There was no way that was happening.

Breathing heavily through his nose, he told Alex "last chance to move."

"Sorry. I'm happy where I am, thank you."

Alex guessed what he was going to do before Darren actually did it; he was a class A bully, and as such, predictable.

The boy reached to grab Alex by his blazer collar, going to lift him to him so that he could get in a punch, but Alex used the palm of his left hand to push Darren's hand to the side, farther away from Alex. This, in martial arts, was an easy block to use, and the result was excellent for any opponent. Because Darren's arm was over-extended across his body, it meant that his side area was left open for Alex to stick three fingers into, and Darren couldn't do much about it. Alex struck Darren, but not too harshly because he didn't want to leave a mark; just to make the boy go into reflex and shy away from the offending hand.

As Darren leaned over slightly, Alex used the momentum to his advantage and shoved him into the chair next to him.

"I'd suggest you stay there, Darren, and not atta-" he was cut off by the teachers voice, who had finally noticed that something was going on.

"Boys!" Stanton shouted, a terrifying noise. Darren moved to stand up again, and Alex shoved him back into his seat. "Darren, sit where you are! Galloway, see me after the bell goes." With that, he kept on looking at the boys for a few seconds, making sure his orders were being followed, before he looked back at the computer screen.

As time went by in the room, Alex kept his face forward, ignoring the looks of hatred Darren was sending his way. He didn't know how he could have handled the situation better; if he had moved, it would have made him look weak. If he had stood his ground further, a full-out fight could have started. Either option for Alex wasn't good.

When the bell finally went, Darren sneered at Alex as he walked past the boy, as Alex stayed in his seat so Stanton could talk to him.

**Merry Christmas to you all!**

**Alright, so there****'****s the next chapter. Like I said above, I didn****'****t particularly like the ending of this chapter, but oh well. Maybe (maybe) in a couple of chapters he****'****ll finally be at Cherub/ being picked up by them.**

**Also, if any of you are confused at what a planner is, it****'****s basically a book with weeks in it, the days/months of the week on the left hand side, then a note page on the other side. You write if you have homework on what days on the left hand side in the correct date, as well as stating when it****'****s due in for, and on the right would be any extra notes/ where you would put your merits/demerits.**

**Other schools may not have this system, but mine does, and so do the many other schools in my area, and as I****'****m from England, and so is Alex, I****'****ve decided Alex should have one of these too.**

**I've been to a few other English schools in my area from when I've played football matches, netball, etc, and I haven't seen any of them that had lockers like you see in American High School films, so if any of you are wondering why Alex wasn't given a locker/lock number, this is why. We have tiny lockers (they're literally 50cm by 50cm by 50cm, that's how small they are. No one uses them. It also means that we don't have a five minute warning bell between classes, because we don't need to go to our lockers. Makes things smoother.**

**Yes, I get very annoyed when American****'****s don****'****t think about these things, and put in their stories that he has stuff like this. Some schools in England might do this, but the majority don****'****t.**

**Anyway, review, please!**


	7. To The Gallows

**Sorry about not posting on New Years Day... I realised this chapter was unbeta'd, unlike all of the ones after it. I don't know how that happened, but it did. I then totally forgot about it, until a good friend of mine pointed it out and asked me when I was posting it. So, here it is.**

**Oh, and FYI: I've written up to chapter 12, but chapter 10 is a beast of a chapter, double the amount of words than in this one. I think. I may split it in half, may not. So when I post that one, I hope that you'll all forgive me for the lateness in posting.**

**Hmm, so I felt that this chapter was slow in the writing... that could be because it took me almost a month to complete, but whatever. During that time, though, I did have my AS Level resit exam (I missed out on my target grade by 1 friggin mark! Grr!), so I did have to revise a fair amount for that + I then had project week projects to complete, which were absolutely horrible to do.**_** Excuses, excuses**_**.**

**Thank you for the amazing reviews for previous chapters, and I hope you review again.**

**To JollyMolly, in reply to your reviews on both this story and Escape: **

**Yes, I've heard about the Cyclone. I hope you're safe wherever you are, but most of all I hope you can still watch QI ;)**

**I mean by 'not having a high school' that we call them secondary schools, really, but whereas high school starts when you're 14 till 18, I think it is, secondary school starts when you're 11, and finishes at 16, where you can then go on to college then drop out/ go to uni, or at 16 drop out, go on work experience etc.**

**Unfortunately, this is unbeta'd. So if there are any mistakes/ you think the writing is worse than in previous chapters, well, it's all my fault.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own AR/Cherub, sadly.**

Chapter 7

_Alex Rider_

When Alex had stayed behind to talk to Stanton, what he'd expected to happen had; Stanton had told him that on his first day, he shouldn't be in fights, nor starting them. Although the man wasn't looking at the boys, he had heard what was said.

"I agree that in a school like this, and especially at your age, you don't want to be a pushover, but kiddo, you've just made yourself an enemy." He'd said, and used that to his advantage, trying to get Alex to join the after-school enrichment programme for defensive martial arts. "Now, I don't know if you've heard, but on Mondays I run an enrichment for Karate. It might be a good idea for you to join, what with Turner as your enemy now," the man had chuckled, as if this was funny.

Alex didn't know if he was allowed to join them; he didn't know if the home would let him do something like that, so just said he'd check with his custodians. Stanton nodded, then seemed to remember something.

"Ah, yes. Please get out your planner. Because of the, ah, activities of this morning are against school rules, you'll have to put a demerit in your planner," Alex did as the man said, a bit confused. In Brooklands, they hadn't had a demerit system. "If you get three demerits in a week, you get put on detention. As it's a Monday, and you've already started out on a bad foot, I'd suggest you buck up your ideas and try not to get any more." The man had said, and signed Alex's planner on the correct week.

He wrote Alex a note, saying that he'd been held back in tutor, before sending Alex to the first lesson of the day: English.

The lesson wasn't so bad. As Alex's age had been pushed back a year, so had his year group in school. Instead of being in year 9 like he should have been, he was repeating the previous year so most of what was taught he already knew. Because it wasn't the major year when coursework and essays started, it meant that the most he did in that lesson was learn English vocabulary and in the last fifteen minutes of the lesson was asked to write up a descriptive piece about a war.

For him, this wasn't too hard, and by the end of the lesson had just over half a page's worth of writing.

The next lesson of the day was maths. Like English, this wasn't too hard because he'd already learnt the syllabus, but going over graphs was almost like a new lesson for him.

In this class, the teacher was a young female who had only been in the school for less than two years. The students, although only in year 8, were pushing her to her limits. Anytime she tried to teach the class, someone would say something witty, or the girls in the back corner of the room would giggle and whisper and not shut up.

Therefore, what should have been an hour's worth of working actually equated to less than 15 minutes. Whilst Alex found what some of the boys - and girls - said and did funny, he didn't really want to deal with it. All he wanted was to get on with the lesson and actually learn something; after all, being on missions as many times as Alex did and for so long at a time meant he missed out on school a fair bit. These lessons, although repetitive, actually brought back a lot of stuff he'd learnt back to his mind which he'd previously forgotten. Hopefully, when - if - he got to Cherub HQ, they'd teach him newer stuff so that when he did return to Brooklands, he wouldn't be extremely far behind as he had previously been after much time spent away from school.

After his second lesson ended, there was a twenty minute break in which he followed the crowd to the dining hall where he finally got to see how he would use his dinner card. Because Alex was from a children's home, he automatically received free lunches because of his lack of parent's income. Unfortunately, the lunches were the only thing he got free, and if he wanted a biscuit or a snack that the school put on during break-times, he would have to pay for them himself. As he didn't have any money, he wasn't able to buy anything.

Five minutes before break ended, he started to look for his third period lesson, geography. He was fairly confident that, in this subject, he would know pretty much most of the syllabus. After all, he had travelled to many different locations world-wide, had even lived in one of the poorest places in the world, and had experienced some of the effects of what happens when two oceanic plates collide – even if they hadn't really collided, rather a bomb being placed between them. And even then, it hadn't actually been placed between them – Alex had, of course, stopped this from happening. So he hadn't _really_ experienced the effects of it... but that was just semantics.

When the bell rang to signal that break had ended and third period lesson had begun, Alex was sitting in his seat as the rest of his class, and teacher, filed into the room. Geography was actually an interesting lesson for Alex, especially compared to his lessons in Brookland – there, the teacher had just sat down and mainly read from a textbook, often writing things on the board for the students to copy down into their books. Here, however, the school had bought new electronic white boards that enabled the class to use games on the internet to learn the syllabus, or interactive activities that showed how the earth was layered, and what happens in each layer. As the class came to an end, Alex was set the homework of three activities to complete for the lesson he had on Thursday that he could easily finish off within 10minutes that he opted to do either at lunch, or at the home.

His next lesson, History, he had with Callum. This lesson was a 'split' lunch, meaning he had half an hour of a lesson, then forty minutes of lunch, before the lesson continued for the remaining thirty minutes left. His teacher in this lesson, Mrs Wardell, was a scary looking woman. Thin frame and face, complete with large spectacles, reminded Alex of Deidre from _Coronation Street._ However, the fizzy reddy-brown shoulder-length hair gave her the look of Miss Bat from _The Worst Witch_, something that he automatically couldn't help but snort at. Surprisingly in this lesson, the students didn't really ever talk, and it was only after five minutes of the lesson starting that Alex realised why; the woman had one hell of an evil look. If ever she was interrupted, she would look at the student, immediately shutting them up. How she heard whispered conversations going on at the back of the room, Alex would never know. If that person talked again when they weren't allowed to, she gave them the eye, again, before picking on the student and telling them that 'good manners cost nothing,' and left it at that. Obviously, this was code for 'shut up or you're out.'

No student dared to interrupt again.

The first half of the lesson went well; he listened and took notes, answered any questions Wardell asked of him. The terms syllabus of The Battle of Hastings was something he had been taught the year previously at Brooklands, so it wasn't too difficult for him to remember most of the details.

When the bell rang signalling lunch, Alex went to stand up, but immediately sat down when he realised that none of the other students had moved. He cast an eye around, before looking at his timetable, confirming that this _was_ his lunch period. Yet still, Mrs Wardell continued on with her lesson for over five minutes, as other students began to get restless.

Finally, Alex was allowed to leave with his fellow students. Immediately, he sought out Callum, and asked him why they had to wait five minutes before going to lunch.

"Wardell is a right misery. Mind you, all teachers are," he paused, as if thinking of all of the other miserable teachers. "We have to wait to be dismissed after lessons are over by the teacher – we can't just leave on the bell, although other teachers normally just let us leave right on time. She knew it was our lunch, so she held us back later than normal, the mare," he scowled.

Alex nodded to Callum, silently agreeing with him, cursing the teacher himself when they reached the dining hall; the hot food line was full, going out of the doors as students had to wait.

Both boys opted to wait in the cold food line, as it was the shorter of the two queues. After a fair few minutes, they finally reached the food selection, and both went for sandwiches. Following Callum to a 6-seated table, Alex sat next to the boy as it was the only seat left; the others were taken up by Conor, Chris and two others that Alex didn't know.

Fifteen minutes before the end of lunch, the twins and Chris stood up, telling the others that they were going for a wander about the school grounds. Alex, not too sure about the other boys he hadn't yet even learnt the names of, left with them.

Outside of the main P.E hall was a courtyard-type area, with flowers contained within wooden barriers. The boys stopped there, and sat down on the ledge that the planks of wood provided. They were silent for a moment, before Chris boasted loudly "New episode of Top Gear tonight!"

"I know! Can't wait to see what they've come up with this time," Callum replied, as enthusiastic as Chris about the new series that was starting today.

"I heard they've built a house-type car thing. I bet that'll be Hammond, the titch!" Chris laughed at his own joke, even though it wasn't really his joke; Clarkson was always the one who took the mick out of Richard for his shortness.

Conor had stopped listening almost as soon as Callum had replied to Chris, noticing Darren and two of his cronies heading their way. Grabbing his brothers' arm, he shook his twin, getting his attention. They both tensed up as Darren stared at Alex as he moved towards them, a smirk on his face.

"Hey Galloway!" Darren called as he reached Alex, invading his personal space. "Fink you're somefing special, eh?" At this, the boy poked at Alex's chest, his face just inches from Alex's own.

Alex didn't want to get in a fight with Darren; it was his first day, and he'd been warned by Stanton already.

"I don't think I'm special at all, Darren. Is there a reason I should be?" He replied politely, albeit slightly cocky. Although he didn't want to fight, he _was_ meant to be in a kids home, and as such believed that a child in his position wouldn't really stand for someone like Darren to get him down.

Darren didn't particularly like his answer; the smirk that had been on his face previously showed this as it morphed into anger, his eyebrows lowering, nostrils flaring slightly. He grabbed for the front of Alex's blazer, but Alex had, at the first sign of his arms moving, raised his arms, palms facing inwards so that the outside of his arm struck Darren's inside arms, performing a double Chudan Ude Uke, blocking his arms before they reached Alex's blazer, as well as forcing them away from his body.

When Alex was growing up, and his uncle Ian had enrolled him in a karate class, one of the main things his instructor had pushed on his students was, in the case of any fighting – be it before or during a fight - to conserve your energy, using basic defensive blocks and strikes. Chudan Ude Uke was one of the most basic, yet effective blocks to use. Not only that, but it was one of the first blocks the instructor taught, and as such was ingrained in Alex's mind to use.

Alex stepped away from Darren as the boy stumbled, slightly off balance as the boy had put his weight forward as he went to grab.

"I don't want to fight, Darren," he spoke. "It's my first day, and I'd rather not get in trouble." Alex wanted to add that Darren also wouldn't win, but knew it would only make the taller boy angrier and more likely to start something.

"Aww! Look lads! Ickle wickle Alex doesn't want to fight. Wassa matta? Scared 'cause you've got no mammy to go crying 'ome to?" Darren sneered. "Got no daddy who'll stand up for y-"

"That's enough, Darren!" Callum butted in, cutting Darren off. "He didn't do anything to you."

Darren only smirked before something caught his eye over Callum's shoulder. "I'd suggest you watch it, Galloway – or you'll be headin to the gallows!" he laughed, then turned and moved away, his cronies following him.

Alex and his friends looked where Darren had been, to see that a couple of teachers had emerged from the buildings. Obviously, Darren liked to fight with no adults around.

They moved back to their lessons, and as the school day progressed, Alex was feeling pretty happy about the lessons. He could keep up pretty well with what was being taught, and only failed to remember a few things that his teachers mentioned.

It was only as Alex was walking home with Callum, Conor and Chris that things turned to the worse.

He and Callum had decided, after only having a sandwich for lunch, that they were going to stop in on a corner shop to buy a packet of crisps. Conor and Chris had left the boys to their own business, wanting to get home and out of their uniform.

The only problem was that they didn't have any money for food. It was only as they'd gotten close to the store that they'd realised this problem, reaching into their pockets to count how much money they had together.

"79p? Well that's not going to get us much, is it," Conor commented.

"Typical. The one time you want food, and there is food, but you can't pay for it," Alex replied, almost mournful, before he had an idea. He told Conor to wait a few metres away from the shop, before he started to walk in the opposite direction.

After approximately ten metres away from his friend, Alex stumbled, knocking into a large man in slacks with large pockets.

"Woah! Sorry, man. Pavements bumpy these days. I didn't knock anything outta your hands, did I?" he asked to the surprised man, holding onto his arm as if steadying himself.

After apologising again, he carried on walking in opposite direction from Conor, turning onto the corner street, waiting for fifteen seconds, then waving for the other boy to join him.

Once together again, and hiding slightly away from the busy shoppers, he pulled out the man's wallet that he had grabbed when he'd stumbled.

"Thirty pounds. Not bad, eh?" He smirked to a stunned Conor. "How about we get something to eat, then?" Walking back to the shop, Conor following slightly behind, he picked up what he wanted, waited for his friend to make his choice, and walked to the counter.

After paying for their purchases and exiting the shop, Alex got the feeling that they were being watched. After too many missions and life-threatening situations, he knew not to ignore his senses.

Keeping his expression care-free, he walked as calmly as he could besides Callum, keeping his ears open for following footsteps and eyes scanning in front of him for any places that could be hiding anyone, as well as places he could hide in.

Luckily, this was a part of London he knew fairly well, seeing as the care home was close to his old house, and he'd walked these streets many times before.

The road he was on currently was less than a mile from Kennington Park.

They had just walked less than a hundred metres from where Alex had come up with his plan when the footsteps following him picked up in speed.

Grabbing onto Callum's arm, he pulled the boy into a jog, hissing at him to run to Kensington Park.

Callum, too, had been aware that they'd been followed, although hadn't picked up on this fact until the footsteps had turned heavier, signalling that someone was running.

Following Alex's lead - he was sure that whoever was following them he could fight off, but wanted to check out Alex's skills at the same too - Callum allowed Alex to direct them into the park.

The footsteps behind them continued on, steadily getting closer until Alex knew they would be caught; his school shoes weren't comfortable at all to run in. Being slip-ons, his feet easily slipped out of the shoe everytime his foot stepped from the ground, making it painful and slow to run.

Less than fifty metres from the park, Alex was grabbed from behind before he spun around to face his attacker.

He wasn't altogether surprised at whose face was staring back at him, a sneer curling his lips up, and his nose scrunched. Whilst this foe wasn't as dangerous as a Scorpia agent, Darren was still a formidable opponent, with broad shoulders and slightly taller than Alex. Not to mention his two pals flanking him, one holding Callum in a painful headlock.

"Thought you'd got away from me, Galloway?"

"You let me go, Darren, and I promise I'll try to leave you with no broken bones," Alex threatened, earning a laugh from the gang.

"Oh, so you're going to break _my_ bones? Don't think so, Gallows. My fists've been looking forwards to meeting your face all day. I ain't gunna deny 'em an introduction, right boys?" This was directed to his friends, who obediently laughed.

Darren made his first mistake right at the beginning of the fight; he let a fistful of Alex's he'd been holding onto since the beginning of the confrontation go, leaving his stomach wide open and undefended.

Alex took the opportunity to quickly spin out of Darren's grasp, facing away from him, and brought up his leg, shooting it out with as much force as he could into the boys chest in a fast roundhouse kick.

Darren crumpled to the ground, breathing in deep lungfuls of air as moans tore out of the boy's mouth.

Alex turned to the boy who had his hands free; the most dangerous in this situation right now. Keeping a wary eye on Darren in case he found the strength to stand and attack from behind, he feigned a blow boys stomach with his left fist, pivoted on his left foot, and brought his right knee up, hitting the boys face with the instep of his foot, instantly knocking him out.

The final boy had pushed Callum away, prepared to take down Alex just as he had knocked out his friend. Going to punch him in Alex's face, Alex immediately pushed the boys fist aside using the palm of his left hand, brought his right up to free his left and to grab ahold of the boys wrist, pulling him off balance and closer towards him. This move was an excellent karate move, taught mostly to those of green belts and higher as a defensive manoeuvre. From here, Alex was free to do with the untrained boy as he liked.

Less than a second after grabbing the boys fist in his right hand and tugging him towards him, Alex turned to his side and brought his right leg partially up, bending his torso away and striking down onto the back his opponents open knee. The boy's knee collapsed, bringing him to kneeling in front of Alex who still held his wrist. Punching straight down the front of the boys neck, he was forced into bending backwards at an awkward angle that left him again wide open to attack. Using his knife-hand, he hit the boy in the solar plexus, causing him immense pain that followed him into unconsciousness.

Seeing Darren start to rise off the floor, Alex dragged Callum into a run, heading again towards the park. Less than a minute after they'd started to run, they heard Darren's feet pounding the pavement.

Entering the park, Alex led Callum past the children's playground and into the thick bushes that lined the play area. Pulling Callum a metre or so further into the undergrowth, he motioned for the boy to climb the large tree in front of them.

"Climb the tree; he won't think to look up. I'll climb another one," he told Callum. "And whatever you do, don't make a sound." He warned.

Giving him a boost, Callum climbed at least fifteen metres off the ground before turning to look at Alex who was still on the ground, hidden by the large densa bush, before he, too, climbed the tree a little way away from his own.

They watched silently as their pursuer ran into the park and to the children's playground. He stopped just at the bushes where Alex and Callum had been, obviously seeing how some of the leaves had been crushed when they had stepped over them.

What their pursuer didn't do, however, was look up, because if he had, he would have been directly under the tree in which Callum sat. But Darren wasn't trained as the two boys were. He wasn't trained to take in everything, to look everywhere, including up.

And so Darren didn't catch the boys that day. Instead, he carried on into the bushes, thinking he would catch up to the pretty quickly.

**Alright, you people. If you want to look at the move Alex pulls on the final assailant, look at the video on this website (about half way down, and about 35secsish into the video)**

**www . howstuffworks . com /karate . htm/printable**

**The knife-hand and in-step are also shown there, in case you don't know what I mean by those.**

**Some of you may have recognised the climbing the tree bit, and how nobody looks up from another FF story. It's where I got the idea from, although I don't remember which story it was or who wrote it - I read the story a year or more ago, but if you recognise the "no one looks up" typa thing from a story, tell me and I'll give em credit for it.**

**I also think this is the longest chapter I've written for Infiltration so far, so I hope you like it.**

**Things will be moving onwards pretty quickly; perhaps next chapter it'll end with Alex in Cherub, I don't know. I can't remember what's next, so I'm as much in the dark about it as you are.**

**Anywho. Review, please?**


	8. Lauren

**Note: So this is sort of a filler chapter, all from Lauren's point of view of why she picked Alex to be a cherub. Because it's short, I plan on posting the next chapter pretty quickly. Maybe. Around my birthday, maybe, so the beginning of March.**

**Thank you all for the lovely reviews, and keep em coming!**

**Oh, and also, this is my first chapter I've ever written that's in the first person tense. Please tell me what you think of this change of tense – do you like it? Love it? Hate it? Not bothered? Couldn't really tell? **

**I've also gotten a fairly important question to ask you all at the bottom, so please look at it. Thanks.**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own either Alex Rider/Cherub. So sue me.**

_Lauren_

When I first met Alex at the police station, I could tell he was special. Blame it on the training or my experience of picking up kids for Cherub, but whatever made me feel this way instantly told me that there was something different about Alex.

His relaxed pose as he stood next to the officers, so unnatural in a place of order, unlike anything children should be acting like… unbothered by being forced into a children's home… unaffected by the loss of his mother, untroubled about starting a new school. It was as if he really didn't care about what was going to happen to him. And yet he stood out from all the children that I have ever seen so far.

The boy could easily adapt to his circumstances, I'd concluded. A very good trait for an agent.

After my initial meeting with Alex and the drive to the home, I'd asked the two Cherub agents staying with me to watch him. At the time, I hadn't known myself that they were in the washing room with Alex and I when I'd first took him there, so it was a surprise when they'd told me that he'd noticed them. _Aware of your surroundings. Another good trait. An excellent trait._

When I'd taken him shopping, it was partly a test to determine whether these skilful traits he'd shown also covered other areas. And they had.

Immediately entering the shopping centre, I'd seen him covertly looking around – whether it was for exits, as any Cherub agent would immediately scout for, or if he was just looking for a shop, it was still unusual; most shoppers just walked and talked, not really having a destination in mind. He was different – in the case of Cherub, 'different' could be both a blessing and a curse. In this case, for Alex, I'd have to say that being different was more of a blessing; Cherub only recruit agents who stand out in some way for them.

I'd purposefully taken him into _Primark_ not only because we'd had a limited budget for his clothes, but also because the low-priced items drew shoppers into the store, making it crammed and tight despite it being a weekday. Many times people had come close to him whilst he'd been looking at clothes, yet not once had he ever accidentally bumped into anyone, even when he'd took a step back and not looking in that direction. In a shop like that, even with my training of balance and hearing I couldn't have managed something like that, as if he were aware of everyone and everything around him.

When I'd questioned him on his choice of dark clothing, I must admit I was surprised. I'd read his file, and knew his father had been a gang lord who'd been shot dead a few years back, and his mother and aunt later killed by the same enemy gang that'd killed his father, so I'd assumed Alex had been referring to a fight between the rival gang in his answer.

The pockets idea was clever; most children just looked for clothes that fashionable. Alex looked for practicality more than anything else. Again, he was different.

Definitely Cherub material, although I'd decided I would still check in with the twins on their report of the boy.

Which led me to the present moment, sitting in my office with Callum and Connor on the other side of the desk, listening to what they thought of Alex, and advising me on whether or not I should consider Alex to be a new agent of Cherub.

Callum was the first to speak, after I'd asked for their opinions on the boy in question. This was surprising, as his brother was normally the more out-spoken one, the more enthusiastic to voice his opinions.

"At first, I didn't really understand him. He was... weird. He just accepted that he was in a kids home, as if it hadn't really sunken in yet that he's in the governments power. But," he paused, and looked at his brother, before continuing. "But it's more than that. He's really quiet, and listens to everything you say to him, as if he's trying to puzzle something out. I dun really know how ti explain it, but if that makes sense to you, he always seemed to be thinking ahead and planning, and it's not something normal kids do unless they've been in situations where they've had to plan lots of things out," again, he stopped, this time looking down. "He's a really good fighter, too. I heard he stood up to Darren – a bully at school – in his tutor instead of backing down like every other kid, so he's brave," at this, he smirked. "Mind you, being skilled in karate like he is I'm not surprised he's brave enough to stand up to him. I recommend him being an agent for Cherub"

This was the most I'd heard Connor speak in one sitting. Alex had certainly created an impact on Connor, I mused, if he's gotten him to speak this much. I considered his words carefully, noticing that I wasn't the only one who was thinking that there was something up about Alex, something his file hadn't mentioned. And then I caught his last sentence.

"He's skilled in karate?" Callum nodded, and I thought about that. Whilst all Cherubs get training in martial arts on campus, meaning any child with or without previous training can be considered to be an agent, those with previous knowledge are more than likely to be considered for a placement as an agent than those without.

"Did he mention to you that he'd studied karate, or have you actually seen any proof?" I asked. Perhaps Alex just said he had trained in karate to keep people from attacking him – be it in the home or at school.

"I saw him myself. Took down three bullies – including Darren. Like I said, it was almost as if he'd planned for an attack like this. He took Darren down straight away after he'd grabbed him, then went for the one who wasn't holding me, knocked him out with just a kick before he knew what was coming! Sweet move, by the way. Then the kid that was holding me went after him just as he was finishing up with the other kid. It was like he knew what was coming, and where the guy was gunna punch for. Blocked him, kicked him, struck him. Down for the count in less than ten seconds," I'd noticed Callum's tone of voice had gotten higher as his report of what had happened moved onto the fight, showing his enthusiasm to tell the events.

After that, I received a similar report from Connor, minus the fight scene, and I'd made my choice.

Although Alex seemed a little... off, he had all the skills to be a Cherub agent. An excellent agent at that. My only concern was that it seemed as if Alex had already been trained for the life of espionage, as if he were destined to work for Cherub. I didn't know if that were a coincidence or not, but nevertheless, Cherub needed people like Alex. And maybe after the hundred days of training he would bound to be participating in, he wouldn't seem so different.

I stepped out into the halls after I'd sent in my final report of Alex to Meryl Spencer, our main Cherub handler, as well as an email confirmation to Zara, reporting that a new orange-shirt would be arriving in less than three hours.

I walked into the kitchen; the first place I assumed Alex to be, and found him sitting at the table next to Chris, eating what was left of a pizza.

"I'd like to see you in my office when you've finished eating, Alex," at this, Alex's eyes widened slightly. If I hadn't been concentrating on his face when I was speaking to him, I would never have noticed. The boy was without a doubt odd. "Just to check up on your progress, nothing to worry about." I smiled at him, hopefully conveying that he wasn't in trouble.

-8-

**Okay, so the question I put to you all is this: How many of you would like to see Alex head back to Brookland (more than likely for a maximum of four chapters, although maybe five). There is a reason for this, which will kinda take over a sub-plot that Mr Horowitz himself wrote in one of his books (although I wont tell you which, as it may end up giving you all a clue as to what I'd like to do). Essentially, I'd like to send Alex back to Brookland, and pick up on the sub-plot, before taking him off to somewhere else.**

**I needed to ask you this now, because what I've wrote for chapters 10/11 may need to be written if I do chose to go down this path of Brookland, and well, I'd rather do it now before I write more chapters, realise that most people wouldn't want him to go there, and end up having to scrap a helluva lot more chapters.**

**Oh, and if he does go back to Brookland, I promise you it wont be anything like what other people have written – as in, some random terrorists come and take over it, etc. The main stuff wont happen at Brookland.**

**So, would you like to see that happen or if it does, would you stop reading it?**

**Question over.**

**Chapter 9 picks up after where chapter 7 left off, slightly. Although he should, finally, enter Cherub during that chapter. I think.**


	9. Moving

**So Alex finally – finally! - enters Cherub in this chapter. Yes, I know you've all been waiting for it, for many months and many chapters, but I feel only now is the right time for him to be chosen. Woo!**

**Thanks go to TheUlmuri for beta'ing this chapter.**

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own Alex Rider/ Cherub, unfortunately, although I do own this plot and any unrecognisable characters that aren't featured in the novels themselves.**

**So there.**

_Alex Rider_

_They watched silently as their pursuer ran into the park and to the children's playground. He stopped just at the bushes where Alex and Callum had been, obviously seeing how some of the leaves had been crushed when they had stepped over them._

_What their pursuer didn't do, however, was look up, because if he had, he would have been directly under the tree in which Callum sat. But Darren wasn't trained as the two boys were. He wasn't trained to take in everything, to look everywhere, including up._

_And so Darren didn't catch the boys that day. Instead, he carried on into the bushes, thinking he would catch up to the pretty quickly._

Three days had passed since that fateful day in the park. Callum had given Alex wary glances for most of those days, and if it hadn't been for their conversation on the way home from the fight, Alex guessed that things would be worse than they were now.

Callum had, as Alex expected, asked how he'd managed to beat up three stronger boys all by himself.

"I told you; I'm a black belt in karate. Mum made me go to the classes in case I'd end up in situations like that... which at the time seemed pretty likely to happen," he'd replied in the hopes that Callum would understand that those 'situations' would come about due to Alex's fathers status as a gang lord.

He had, but the questions still came pouring from the other boy's mouth.

"But why didn't you finish Darren off like you did with the other two?"

Alex sighed, slightly annoyed, at this final question as they'd come within sight of the home. "I figured Darren would get help for his friends, or guard them or something from anyone nearby. And if he did come after us I figured we'd be well away from him so he wouldn't be able to follow us. I guess I hadn't hit him hard enough," he shrugged. This wasn't the actual reason for it, though.

He'd really left him awake because he _knew_ Darren wouldn't give up on him. He'd been embarrassed in front of people who followed him, who thought of him as almighty, the strongest one. And when Darren came after them, he'd get to show Callum another side of him; the side that planned out every movement he made, the side that knew he would be headed to Kensington Park and hide in the trees, not just the fighting, quiet side of him.

He didn't give this reason to Callum, though. If he had, it would obviously show that Alex knew that the other boy was part of Cherub, as he'd be telling the boy that he _wanted _him to see that side of him.

Yes, Alex had figured out that the twins were members of Cherub. It was in large part due to Darren, as all throughout the fight Callum had stood there, not saying a word or trying to throw off the boy who held him in a headlock. Any normal boy would have jumped at the chance to be free, or at the very least tried to talk Darren into letting him go.

Callum hadn't. He'd watched and waited for Alex to make his move, as if it were a test. Between that and all the other things Alex had seen and heard about the boys – their martial arts training, the sly glances, the patience, stamina, skill and slightly toned bodies – things just hadn't added up.

Compared to Chris, they were a lot more reserved, careful of what they said and did, always watching where they were going, and constantly aware of their surroundings... it just wasn't a normal, childlike thing to do.

After Callum's enquiry about not finishing Darren off, Alex hadn't answered any more questions, instead reverting into himself for the rest of the evening.

At school the following day, Darren was a force to be reckoned with. He didn't make an appearance during tutorial in the morning, but Alex knew that he wouldn't stay home just because of the beating he'd received the previous day.

So when Alex was making the transition between his second lesson to the dining hall for the twenty minute break, he wasn't altogether surprised to find Darren waiting near the benches where he and Alex had almost fought 24 hours before.

He _was_ surprised, though, to find Darren alone. He walked past the boy, nodding towards the science building, hinting that he wanted Darren to follow him behind the wall so they had more privacy from teachers and students alike.

Before he was able to turn around to face the bully, he suddenly found himself pressed against the building's wall, a hand holding the neck of his blazer and the other against his back.

"Think you can beat me up, eh? You're just a nobody. An orphan with nobody to love him," although Alex couldn't see him, he could sense the sneer on his face in his tone of voice. "You shouldn't have fought us yesterday. Bad move, Gallows. Really bad move..."

Before Alex knew what had happened, an intense pain ran through his body, starting smack in the middle of his back. He grunted, and slipped slightly. Another shot hit just above the last one, causing even more pain, before a kick was aimed at his legs.

"You Little shit. You're gonna get what's comin' to you, and I'm gonna love every single minute of it," Darren whispered in his ear, before the pressure at his neck loosened and Darren turned to walk away.

Alex, although in pain, wasn't going to stand for that. He knew if he let Darren go without hurting him, he would continue in his bullying of Alex. Darren, like the boys who had bullied Tom, wouldn't leave Alex alone until he was put in his place and shown that Alex wouldn't take the abuse.

Grabbing Darren's arm, Alex pulled the other boy back, spinning the other boy around to face him before aiming a swift kick to Darren's thigh, making his leg crumple beneath him.

Alex really wanted to kick Darren in the face with his foot at this point, which would have knocked the boy out, but knew being on school property that this would have left bruising, evidence that Darren had been beaten in the case that the boy went to a teacher.

Instead, he went for the old school boy trick of a swift kick to the groin, causing him to double over and move his hands from his thigh to his family jewels, eyes lifting in their sockets as real pain registered.

Knowing the boy wouldn't be standing for many minutes, Alex walked closer to him, before threatening the boy.

"I'd suggest you pick on someone else, Darren. Every time you try to hurt me, I'll just hurt you back. I'm not weak like you. I don't get my thrills from beating up smaller kids, but I _will_ fight back if I have to. Do you understand me, Darren?"

For the next two days, Darren left Alex alone.

Alex also noticed the slight limp in the boys step as he walked, and many a-times couldn't help the short burst of laughter that bubbled out of him at the sight.

Although his two fights with Darren were the... highlights of his stay at the care home, things really started to pick up pace on Friday.

He'd been sitting at the kitchen table, eating a slice of the pizza he'd cooked, when he'd heard Lauren calling for Connor and Callum to join her in her office.

Waiting for a minute after the boys had disappeared behind the door, Alex silently crept closer to it so he could listen in on the conversation.

The door muffled the sounds of the exchange, but Alex got the gist of it; they were talking about him.

"_Definitely Cherub ... Up for a fight if... but willing to ….. Of the situation."_

Less than a minute later, he heard the dismissal of the boys, and went back to the kitchen to finish his pizza. He found Chris there, already chomping on his food, and narrowed his eyes dangerously, yet smiling at the same time to convey that he wasn't angry with the boy for stealing his food.

He'd just eaten halfway through another slice when Lauren entered the room, asking for Alex to join her in her office as soon as he was finished. He panicked slightly, remembering that he wasn't wearing the top Smithers had given him, before he pulled himself together and nodded at her to convey his understanding.

Once finished eating – he noted the irony of the saying 'going out with your stomach full and clean underwear on' (although he pondered whether after 8 or so hours of wearing the underwear he had on _were_ considered clean – he quickly ran upstairs to put his specially made top on underneath the top he was already wearing. If Lauren asked what he was doing upstairs or what had taken him so long, he'd decided that he would just lie and say he wanted to wash his hands or needed the toilet.

Done, he walked back downstairs and, just before knocking on Lauren's office door, remembered his earring. Pulling it out and tapping the stud and backing three times, he placed it back into his ear and knocked on the door.

At her 'come on in,' he opened the door and took a seat on the chair she indicated him to sit on.

"Now, Alex. I just called you in here to see how you were progressing in the home and at school," she smiled. "But first, can I offer you something to drink?"

"Umm, sure. Just water, please." Alex almost smiled at this; in his file on Cherub he was given by MI6, it had told him that all agents weren't allowed to know the location of their campus until a later date when they were fully recruited. Agents taken from care homes were often drugged in their sleep and transported at night, or their offered drinks were spiked by the Cherub agent in charge of recruitment.

If what he'd concluded about the conversation between the twins and Lauren was correct, then the offered drink was more than likely drugged.

He accepted the offered glass and pretended to take a sip, then another.

Lauren asked him questions about how he was settling down in his new life, watching as he occasionally sipped at his drink. After ten minutes had passed, he started to feel the effects of the drug and he felt his eyelids get heavier. It was getting hard to talk, and his arms felt limp at his sides.

"Are you okay, Alex?" Lauren asked, seeming concerned.

"Yeah. 'm jus' tired 's all," he slurred, bringing his glass of water up to his mouth to finish the drink off. "Fink 'm gonna ge-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence before his eyes refused to open, his head slumped to his chest, and he was out like a light.

Nearly four hours later, Alex woke up but remained still, and the car he was in came to a stop outside what seemed to be an old RAF base. "New Kid?" asked the security guard. It was then Alex pretended to move in his sleep and scratched his ear. The one with his earring in, activating a tracking beacon, before falling back to sleep.

Back in Royal & General Bank, Alan Blunt smiled. He knew that the first step to infiltrating Cherub was competed.

Alex awoke in a room bathed in sunlight, on a rather comfy bed and in a room furnished with only a desk, a waste bin, a television, a kettle and some cabinets in the far corner. As his mind finally broke through the last of the drug induced fog, he realised that he must be on the Cherub campus.

He noticed two doors, one cracked open a sliver to reveal a bathroom, the other shut: presumably the door leading out of the room.

He shifted slightly in the bed, and realised he was naked. That was freaky. Sitting up, he looked out of the window, seeing girls and boys on an athletics track in spiked trainers, doing laps and jumping over hurdles. On the floor by his bed was a set of clean clothes: a pair of white socks and boxers, an orange top, military-style trousers and black polished boots.

He got changed into the clothing quickly, not wanting to be naked in case someone entered his room unexpectedly. And Alex didn't do being naked well. The scars on his body, for one, he didn't want to reveal, but he was also going through puberty. His body was changing, and well, he didn't want anyone seeing him like that but himself. When he had to.

He looked around the room a bit longer, not quite sure what he was searching for – a note explaining what he was to do when he awoke? Some food on the cabinet to satisfy his hunger? Not finding anything, he finally decided that he might as well explore outside of his room.

"Ready or not, here I come," he murmured as he slowly opened the door to an empty hallway.

**Get ready for the next bits! Next chapter should see Alex going through some tests – physical, mental, etc etc, before the 100days of training, maybe a mission, all the whilst getting info for MI6. Woo.**

**So, tell me whatcha think, wouldja? Review away, my lovelies!**


	10. Testing

**First I'd like to apologise for any inconsistencies in this chapter and future ones – now that we're in Cherub, or rather Alex is in Cherub, some things that I write may not be in the books or are in the books but are in a different place. I'm going off my memory and also the map that's on the cherubcampus . com website, which unfortunately doesn't tell you what is actually inside of the building's.**

**But either way, I'm trying to keep it as close to the books as I can for your own enjoyment.**

**Thanks to TheUlmuri for beta'ing this thing ;)**

**And to "Guest" - thank you for noticing the new picture... took me a while to do it, forgotten how to use photoshop, but I like it too.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own either Alex Rider or Cherub, unfortunately.**

-_Alex Rider-_

_-_"_Ready or not, here I come," he murmured, crouching down slightly as he slowly opened the door to an empty hallway.__-_

Alex looked both left and right before stepping out of his room; he knew someone would be watching him, and these movements would show his wariness, his confusion of where he was. Not only that, but it would also give Alex a view of the outside world. To his right, at the end of the corridor, was a large double-glazed window looking straight out onto some tennis courts where six girls faced each other. As he watched, three of the girls lifted their racquets straight into the air above their heads, before they swung them forwards, hitting the tennis balls that had been thrown up almost simultaneously. The girls opposite them hit the balls back, and another ball was swung into the air, racquets meeting it straight on.

He realised that they were being trained on how to serve the ball as opposed to playing a game out of fun. He was sure they could use a different, more powerful way to strike the ball if the girls only lifted the racquet further back just a little. If he passed the mission and was allowed to stay at Cherub, he'd point it out to them. After all, if they were being trained in the game for a mission, then they had to know the ins and outs of the game and be the best so that they could do their best.

Pushing the thought away, Alex looked to the left and saw an empty hallway. He made his way along it, but stopped after less than a few metres at the lifts and pressed the circular button to call one. He waited only thirty seconds before one came, but in that time memorized all he could of the layout of the building – like in most hotels and public buildings, there were stickers of the building's layout next to the elevator in case of emergency. He saw that he was on the fourth floor, and that there was twelve floors altogether, with an extra floor as the lobby or "ground" floor. He decided that was where he should head first.

When the lift came, he stepped inside and looked at the different buttons before pressing the golden 'G' one. Interestingly, there was an extra floor that hadn't been labelled on the building plan, but was included in the buttons on the lift – a grey 'B' that he took to mean 'Basement'. He was tempted to press it, but opted to just run his thumb over it as if in contemplation. He'd noticed the mirror at the back of the lift when he'd entered it, and was sure there was a camera hidden behind it, monitoring his every move. It would show whoever was watching him that he'd seen the difference, that he was an observant boy.

It wasn't long before the lift reached the ground floor, and Alex stepped out gingerly. Walking forwards, he looked to his right and saw the reception desk. He looked to his left just in case anything in that direction needed his attention, he didn't see anything worthy of notice – just some doors that led to what appeared to be a miniature kitchen anda couple of notice boards with names, games and meeting dates. There were also fliers advertising things like swimming competitions and football matches.

He walked to the reception desk after his look-about and stepped around it after checking to see if anyone was there. He knocked on an open door that was behind the desk to grab the attention of anyone back there and was rewarded when a child of about sixteen in a navy Cherub shirt came out wearing the same military style uniform as him.

The boy didn't say anything, so Alex decided to get the ball rolling.

"Um, hello?" he said calmly, allowing for a slight note of hesitance in his tone

"Can't talk to orange shirts." The other boy replied.

Alex raised his eyebrows in surprise before an amused smile crept onto his face.

"So... if I wanted to call you a tit, you couldn't say anything back?" He smirked.

The boy narrowed his eyes and his lips thinned, but didn't say anything nor do anything to communicate otherwise – no hand gestures or movements of the head.

"Hmm. What about if I said your mam was so stupid she tried to put m&m's in alphabetical order, you'd say nothing?"

Alex was ready for the attack. He knew that whilst the navy shirt couldn't talk to him, he could still hit him. Pushing peoples buttons was what Alex was good at – he knew that all of the kids here didn't have parents, and it would be a semi-sensitive topic.

He knew that for the navy shirt to go to grab him, it would do two things: the first, would get the navy shirt in trouble, maybe even get him to say something to make the punishment worse.

The second, and most important, would be that the people watching him would do something. Whilst he was sure Conor and Callum would have passed on to Lauren, and her to the bosses here at Cherub, that Alex knew martial arts, they wouldn't necessarily know just how much he knew. Yes, he'd said he was a black belt and had also fought off one bully with one of the twins with him, but they hadn't seen his moves for themselves.

The boy went to punch him in the face, his fist rearing back in preparation to give the most force.

If there was one thing Alex knew about blocking a straight punch, or any other punch for that matter, it was that if the punch wasn't going to hit it's mark, then there was no point in wasting energy and time blocking it. Instead, as the punch came to meet his chin, he leaned his head to the right, and before the navy shirt had time to pull his fist back, Alex punched him straight in the solar plexus with his right hand in the middle of his chest, hitting his nerves and winding him. The boy's chest area was wide open to him; his arm was still extended, and his other hand was ready to punch with a follow up to the one that missed. He didn't get a chance to use that hand – Alex punched this time with his left hand in an uppercut, hitting the boy where he had originally aimed at Alex. It sent his lower jaw crashing into his top, and with it a huge amount of pain.

The boy crumpled to the floor, but Alex knew that him being a Cherub agent would mean he'd be up at any second. He was preparing to kick at him, this time in his cheek— that would surely knock him out— when there was a shout from behind him.

Turning around, he noticed an adult wearing a suit, who Alex quickly concluded was someone of high status.

"Enough!" She said, marching closer to Alex. "That's enough. Come with me, now." She was looking directly at him as she said it, and turned around to head back in the direction she came from when she was sure Alex was following her.

She led him through the mini-kitchen Alex had noticed earlier, down a corridor with trolleys lining them, some containing triangle-cut sandwiches, others various of snack foods, and finally to an office at the end of it.

Shutting the door behind her, the woman gestured for Alex to take a seat, while she stepped around the large mahogany desk to sit in the leather chair placed there. It looked comfortable, Alex had to admit. Definitely something he decided he wanted in his room when he got back home to Jack.

"Welcome to Cherub campus, Alex. I'm Zara Asker, the Chairwoman of this place," she said.

Alex struggled to put on a confused expression – he knew this was Cherub, after all, but was sure others who came here wouldn't.

"I know this sounds stupid," Alex said, keeping up the façade of being confused, "but I have no idea how I got here."

Zara smiled. "The person who brought you here popped a mild sedative into your drink to help you sleep. I hope you didn't have any ill effects?" She questioned.

"I feel fine. Confused, though. Why'd you make me go to sleep?"

"I'll explain Cherub first. Maybe then you'll be able to tell me why we had to make you go to sleep, hmm?"

She was a straight forward woman, Alex found, but not one to express much emotion. Or maybe that was just a façade, too. She was trained, Alex knew. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be good at keeping a poker face.

She explained to him about Cherub; their excellent facilities, the outstanding education, how it had been created during World War II. She told him about their entrance requirements, both exam based and 'other, more unusual requirements'. Alex couldn't help but interrupt, wanting to know what, exactly, she was suggesting these unusual requirements were.

"What we're suggesting is that you come and work for us – be an agent for British Intelligence." She stated bluntly.

Alex had a moment of Déjà vu of when Mr. Blunt had asked him the very same thing. And Alex wanted to respond exactly the way he had that day in the training facility over lunch with Blunt and Jones – 'no'. But he knew he couldn't.

"What?"

"A spy, Alex. We want you to be a spy for us. Cherub is a part of the British Intelligence Service, albeit a very secretive part." She said, linking her hands in front of her as she leant forward towards him over the desk.

"But why'd you want kids to be spies?" Alex asked, but of course he knew the answer to that – because children were never suspected.

Zara confirmed as much to him, "My predecessor had a brilliant way to put this. Imagine a grown man knocking on an old woman's door in the middle of the night, and telling her he'd been in a car accident and needed an ambulance. Most people would be suspicious, understandably. If he asked to come in, she'd say no. She'd call an ambulance herself, but would make him wait outside."

She paused, letting that sink in to Alex's head.

"Now, if it was a child who'd knocked on her door in the middle of the night and claimed to have been in an accident, she'd let him in, look after him, call an ambulance and fuss over him. Maybe if he's lucky she'll give him cookies. The potential would be there then, wouldn't it? The child could easily sneak around if she went out of the room, could easily hide bugs in places were she'd have conversations. All to the Service's benefit, of course."

Alex nodded at her reasoning – he knew from personal experience how useful a child could be, how much they could get away with before becoming suspects.

"But why pick me?" He questioned, wanting to say something. And maybe he was looking for flattery, too. MI6 continuously commented on how good he was at his job, but never on himself as a person.

"You're physically fit, intelligent, _observant_, yes, we noticed that too, and you're also not afraid to get into trouble. We need that, someone with a flare for excitement, and isn't afraid to face the consequences." She'd smiled, actually smiled, as she said these qualities.

"Well, it sounds good," Alex mumbled, "Is it dangerous?"

"Most missions here at Cherub are pretty safe," she said. Alex couldn't help chuckling inwardly. _Yes,_ he agreed, _they are safe. Will be a nice change for once. _"Like I said, Cherub has been in operation for over fifty years. In that time, only four agents have been killed, and few more seriously injured. I must stress to you, Alex, you are free to leave at any time whatsoever. And if you are seriously injured, we will look after you for the rest of your life because of your service to this country."

"You'd really just let me go if I said I didn't want to come here? What if I told people about this place?" This was surprising. He wasn't used to having a semi-free will. The semi part being that he was only here because of MI6.

Zara sat back in her chair looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Nothing stays secret forever, Alex. But imagine if you left and found a phone number for a large newspaper business. What would you say to them?"

"I'd say that British Intelligence are using kids as spies."

"Where is it?"

"I don't know... oh, so that's why you put me to sleep! So I couldn't tell anyone where this place is if I wanted to leave." Alex knew this already, but put a surprised tone into his reasoning.

"Yes, you see, intelligent. Okay, so next question. Do you have any evidence the newspaper could use? Because we search everybody before they leave."

"Well, no." Alex mumbled, looking down.

"You see? The newspaper wouldn't print your story. They'd think it was a prank call and hang up on you."

"Yeah, okay, I get it. No one would believe me, so I might as well stay hushed up about it."

"Glad we've got that settled. Now then, do you want to take the entrance exam? If you do well enough, we'll offer you a place here. If not, it's back to the children's home."

"You drive a hard bargain, Miss Asker. Here, or a smelly kids home? Such decisions." He sighed dramatically before smirking. "I'd have to say yes, yes I would like to take the entrance exam."

She smiled again and stood up, opening the door. As Alex went through it, she told him "that's _Mrs_ Asker to you, Alex."

O

_Mrs_Asker drove Alex across campus in one of their specially modified golf buggies to what looked like a more traditional Japanese-style building with a roof made of logs.

"This is one of our more modern buildings. One of our Cherubs a few years ago saved millions of yen for the Japanese after a medical fraud, and they thanked us with this, a new dojo. I assume you already know what a dojo is, correct?"

"Training building for martial arts?" Alex guessed. In London, Alex used to attend the karate classes based in a sports and leisure centre, so he'd never actually been in a dojo before. But his teachers had, and had often told the children – and adults – about their own training to show that they had once been learners themselves.

"Right," Zara said as they stepped inside the building. A mixture of children with a variety of ages, gender and race were inside, around thirty of them Alex noted at a glance. They all wore the standard and preferred white jackets and trousers that most martial arts students wore. Holding the jacket closed together was a belt wrapped around and knotted in the centre of their waists, most had black belts, but some had brown or brown and white belts.

"This is part one of your physical – defence and attack." Zara said as she led him through another set of doors into a smaller room were a girl of about Alex's age was stretching. "We want to know what _you_know already, as well as how you'd do well in a fight. As of right now, it doesn't matter if you win or lose; we haven't trained you, after all."

She directed for him to take his shoes and socks off before they stepped into the room, and he bowed towards the girl as a sign of respect. If there had been a teacher in the room, he would have bowed to them instead. He could have not bowed at all, but after eight years of putting this into practise, it was not something he wanted to stop doing just because he was in a different place.

"This is Lauren, she'll be your sparring partner for this part of the test." She spoke loud enough for Lauren to hear, but leant down towards Alex's ear and whispered, "she also doesn't know that you've done martial arts before. This will be a test for you both."

Alex wanted to grin, but opted not to; best not to give anything away.

"Right then, rules," She called Lauren over who bowed and shook Alex's hand. "The first to win three submissions is the winner. An opponent can submit by tapping their hands on the ground or by speaking. Both of you can withdraw from the bout at any time."

She looked at the both, asking them silently if they wished to back out now. Not getting a response, she continued.

"There will be no eye gouging, groping or hitting of the groin. Do you both understand? Good. Stand apart and prepare to begin."

Both opponents walked into the centre of the room and followed Zara's orders. Alex purposefully let Lauren move into a fighting stance first then slowly copied her movement. He looked hesitant, unsure of what he was doing, when in actual fact it was all an act; he knew exactly what he was doing.

And so, as Zara said for them to begin the bout, he was expecting the side-kick to the stomach and allowed her to hit. He fell to the floor, winded, and tapped, signalling he was allowing her the first win.

Lauren stepped back, but not before sneering at him and calling to Zara about how weak he was. He knew it was an attempt to goad him into another round, and let himself put on a face of anger, standing up carefully as his stomach was still slightly sore.

Zara again asked for them to stand apart, bow, and then called for the new bout to begin.

Alex waited for Lauren to strike again, who this time used her fist. If Alex hadn't put up a rising block by lifting his arm up, he would have been hit squarely in the nose, and would have more than likely have had it broken.

He stunned her – she wasn't expecting his defensive manoeuvre, and used this surprise to his advantage. Before she even had a chance to pull her fist back in after it was knocked high above it's intended target, knocking her off balance, he struck, being mindful to use less force. If this was a real fight, he'd put as much as he could into his punch, and that was what he thought of this as: a real fight between two experienced martial artists.

He punched straight into the side of her body, pushing her to the left, and raised his front foot as high as it could go, straight upwards and into her chin. Or would what would have been her chin, had she not bent it away from him at the last moment. She was over the shock now, and was determined not to look any more of a fool in front of Zara.

Her arms were flailing slightly, though, as she was still off balance, and he grabbed a hold of her left one with his right, the closest hand to him. Bending forward he pulled his right arm down with all his might, causing her to flip over him. He forced her onto her stomach with the hand he still had control of, and putting his foot onto her back, pulled it again, this time away from her body.

It would cause immense pain, he knew. She tapped out shortly after trying, and failing, to escape from his hold. But with him in control of her hand, and his foot on her back, she didn't have anyway to manoeuvre out of his hold.

She wasn't pleased in the least. Her arm socket hurt badly from where it was pulled, and she was embarrassed to lose the fight in front of her boss.

"Girls," Alex tsked. "Always overly-confident in the wrong situations. Such a waste, really." Alex wound her up, he saw as soon as she turned towards him. Anger was now in her eyes, but she didn't say anything further.

Alex did, though. "You can always give up, Lauren. It's a well known fact us boys are always stronger than you _girls_." He stressed the last word, adding a disgusted tone to his voice.

Again she said nothing to him, instead simply narrowing her eyes at him in a glare. Alex chuckled.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" Alex goaded again.

Standing apart, this time without the cue from Zara, they bowed and waited as the woman called for them to begin the final round.

Lauren again started the bout, kicking for his stomach, but Alex wasn't there. He'd instantly knelt down, lifting one leg off the floor and swept it around in an arc, his foot curved so he could swipe her legs of the floor. She stayed up, but once again lost her balance. Recovering quickly, she aimed a wild punch at him. He knocked it aside, stepped in to her side, and brought his fist up towards his face before driving it straight down into her already bruised side. She stayed up but tried to move away, only Alex brought his front foot, which was behind her body, up then down into the back of her knee, deadening her leg.

She wouldn't be getting up quickly for that. He could have waited a couple of minutes before she would even be able to stand, but he saw himself as a more chivalrous person and turned towards her, leaned down and grabbed hold of her neck, pulling it backwards. She punched him as much as she could, often causing him pain and to wince, only this was a dangerous move. She tapped out, beaten.

Alex let go instantly and backed away from her, towards Zara.

"Excellent, Alex. Just excellent. Ready for your next test?" Zara asked.

Alex was slightly out of breath – he hadn't shown this weakness to Lauren when they were fighting, but as the danger had passed, he'd slowly allowed himself to breathe more deeply and in faster pants.

"Ugh, sure. Can't I have a break, though?" He whined. He might be a super star who didn't often get breaks during his missions, but he was betting other kids here had asked for them before, so it was better for him to whine and act like others to fit in more. If he even could after beating Lauren.

"We're on a schedule. I'm afraid not." Alex nodded his head. As she turned to leave, she shouted to get Lauren's attention. "Oh, and Lauren? You have to do 50 laps by the end of this week. You forgot to anticipate that an enemy could know what you know, and thought of Alex as a newbie to martial arts. That will get you killed, Lauren. Understand?"

"Yes," Lauren sighed.

Alex was led to a hall with dozens of desks. He was told to sit at one by Zara, before she walked to the front and picked up two booklets and a pen and handing them to Alex.

"Just a simple intelligence test based on your age group. English and Maths. Shouldn't be too difficult. You have forty-five minutes, begin."

He was really getting sick of that word, and couldn't wait for the 'end' to come. He had a page left to finish when Zara told him that time was over. English wasn't so bad, but in maths he found he was sorely lacking.

O

Alex was led back to the small canteen and told to pick as much food as he wanted. He piled his plate with a few sandwiches, two biscuits, two Mars bars and a bottle of water. He chose the sweet stuff mainly to build up his energy more than because it was chocolate.

He was led back to the first office behind the canteen and told by Zara to eat in there while she went to ask for the next part of the test to be ready and waiting for them.

He wanted to snoop around, but since he didn't know if he was being monitored or how long Zara would be, he stayed put in his chair and ate his food, though he went for a small mooch around the desk afterwards. They wanted trouble making and excitement after all. If he was being recorded, they'd now know he wasn't afraid to get into other people's business. Unfortunately, the drawers were locked, so he couldn't do much.

Zara entered the room shortly after, and asked Alex some general questions about his life which he answered in as little detail as he could – he didn't want to be asked the same question twice but in a different way and be caught out, after all.

A topic change came swiftly and unexpectedly.

"So, Alex, what would you do if your wife, in the future mind you, was near death from a special kind of cancer. There was one drug that the doctors thought might save her. It was a form of radium that a chemist in the same town as you had recently discovered. Now, the drug is expensive to make: about £200, but the chemist charges you ten times that amount, £2000. You've gone to everyone you know, asking for charity and donations, and have even tried fundraising, but can only muster up £1000, half of what it cost. You try to get the chemist to give it to him now, and promise to pay back the difference later – your wife needs it now.

But the chemist says: 'No, I discovered the drug and I'm going to make money from it.' So in desperation, you break into the man's store to steal the drug for his wife.

Do you think you should have broken into the store and stole the drug to save you wife?"

Well, this was certainly something Alex hadn't expected.

"Think about it for me, Alex. Imagine that scenario. Would you break into the store?"

He wasn't sure just what exactly Zara wanted from him: should he say yes, and show that he'd be willing to do that for his loved ones, the ones he's loyal to, or should he say no. After all, he'd be breaking the law. He has to have some standards.

He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the question.

"Um, I'd most probably do that – break into the store. If it was my wife, I wouldn't want her to die. I'd do everything I could to stop it from happening. He was charging an exorbitant amount of money, and even though he'd still be making a profit if he took the thousand pounds, he wouldn't accept it. I think I'd leave £200, though. He might not be willing to sell the drugs to others if he didn't at the very least break-even with the first 'sale', and want to keep the antidote to himself out of spite. Or he might jack up the price even more." Alex rushed out.

"So you believe it's right for you to break the law?"

"Well, no. Yes. In certain circumstances."

"And what are these 'circumstances'?" She asked.

"Uh, if someone desperately needs to steal, and the people who could have given them what they needed aren't being fair."

"So you're saying that a burglar who's homeless and has no money should be allowed to steal from someone, and they shouldn't be punished? The victims of the robbery will lose things, things they've earned money for and paid for whilst the robber, who was in desperate need, gets off scot free without paying for it?"

"No! I don't mean it like that. The chemist was being greed-"

"Wouldn't these victims have been greedy? I'm sure whatever the robber stole wasn't a needed item, merely a want of the owners. If they stole a necklace, the owners could live without it, but want it. Isn't that being greedy?" Zara pointed out.

"But she was dying! The chemist was willingly allowing her to die because of his greed."

"The robber could be dying – starvation, or of the cold weather if it's winter and he needs money to buy a jacket. Would you justify him breaking into someone's property and taking things so he could live longer?"

"Depends on what he took, I guess." Alex said moodily. He didn't like not winning this argument. "If he really needed the item, and those people didn't, and it was going to save his life, then yeah. He should break in and steal it." Alex stuck to his guns. He wasn't changing his point now. "So long as _he_didn't get greedy and take stuff he didn't need."

"Good. You have morals, that's good." Zara said. "Right, next test, follow me."

He followed her to an obstacle course set out away from campus. A large man was there, an angry scowl on his face. Alex guessed that he wasn't pleased to be kept waiting.

He instructed Alex on how to do the course, what it involved, before telling him to complete it in as little time as possible.

Alex was fit, and the obstacle course wasn't as bad as the one at the SAS camp in Brecon Beacons. On the first go around, he had two boys wearing navy shirts as guides. They wouldn't tell him their names, but taught him how to master each different section of the course and which steps to avoid in other areas.

On his second go, the timer started, and Alex went round by himself. He got around the course in under ten minutes – it wasn't even a mile long, and he paced himself. He didn't know if another physical test was coming up or not, but wanted to save the energy he'd gained from his lunch just in case.

He realized that saving his energy had been a good decision when his next test also turned out to be physical, if not too daunting: swimming. He was told to keep his clothing on, but to remove his shoes. When his cloths became wet, they would weigh him down, and would make it much harder for him to complete the test, even though he was an experienced swimmer.

"Dive in, find five bricks in the pool, and drop them off at the other end. Ready? Go." Zara ordered. This wasn't a timed exercise like the obstacle course had been, but he knew the longer he was in the pool, the heavier the clothing would feel and the harder it would be for him to return to the surface after diving down for the bricks.

He started to struggle slightly after the fourth brick. He'd realised after picking up the second one that each brick was heavier than that last, and rather than grabbing two at a time, it was easier for him to get one and take it to the other end before returning for another. It might have meant more swimming, but there was less weight to carry and his hands were free in case of any complications.

After he'd dried off he was led back to the office.

"So," Zara started. "Should we offer you a place at Cherub?"

"I don't know," Alex said. "You only gave me a rough outline of what you want a Cherub to be. Did I meet your standards?"

"In certain areas – mostly those of a physical nature – you surpass what we expect of any potential candidate. You have good logic, and apparently are not afraid of getting into trouble." Zara said, but Alex could here the 'but' coming, and decided to prompt her along.

"But..."

She sighed. "But when we were doing a medical on-"

"You did a medical on me?" Alex asked, although he shouldn't have been surprised – he'd woken up naked, after all. _Somebody_had taken his clothes off, as it certainly hadn't been him. Why not kill two birds with one stone – get him to dress himself, see how he reacts to being naked, in a strange place, as well as getting a medical examination done.

"We did, yes. It's standard procedure. If you're not fit in certain aspects – having very bad respiratory problems, for instance, could be dangerous in certain circumstances— then you wouldn't have even known you were here."

"So you're saying that if I wasn't fit enough, then I wouldn't be here?" Alex asked for clarification. Zara nodded her head, sensing there was more to come from him. "Then what was with the 'but'? Is there something wrong?"

"Our medical revealed that you have quite a few scars, which we could overlook, but you also have a bullet wound, just a few centimetres above the heart." This time it was Alex who nodded his head. "Normally, we wouldn't have considered you after learning that since it could cause quite a few problems for us, and put you in danger if you were to be hit there hard, which is likely to occur."

"Yet you're still considering me?"

"We determined that the bullet wound was approximately seven months old, and normally a soldier with such a wound, though perhaps in a different place, would be back in operation by now."

"It doesn't really hurt that much any more. I've done a lot since I got this thing," Alex confirmed, glancing down at the spot on his shirt that underneath was the wound. "Got into even more fights, ran for my life, I even had to hold onto a balcony and really stretch my arms for at least five minutes to escape from my dad's enemies. I felt a little bit of pain then, but that's about it."

The first two points Alex made were truths; Alex had run for his life many times since he'd gotten shot, and had also been in plenty of fights since then, too. The latter point was a half-truth. He _had_hung off a suspended bar in the air... granted, it wasn't a balcony, but he was fairly sure he could have survived the fall off a balcony, but not so much the crocodiles that had swarmed beneath him, jaws snapping hungrily...

"All the same, I'd like to test the wound further, if that's okay with you? It will be simple things, all of which can be done in this office. Are you willing to do that? If you pass, you will be offered a place in Cherub."

"Yeah, fine."

Zara tapped a button underneath the desk, and the door behind Alex opened. He swivelled around in his seat, looking at the man entering the room. He was wearing a white lab coat – a doctor, then, Alex surmised, - and was holding a mat in his right hand and had a large duffel bag over his other shoulder. He set it onto the floor, and Alex heard metal crashing against metal as the contents settled.

"Alex, this is Dr McCallum. Dr McCallum, our newest potential recruit, Alex." Zara introduced them.

"Well, it's nice to meet ye lad!" The man boasted, his broad Scottish accent coming through strongly.

"Um, you too," Alex replied, looking at the bag.

Dr McCallum followed his eyes and laughed. "Not'in' to worry aboot. Just a phew weights's all!" Alex got the impression that every sentence to Dr McCallum needed to be boasted.

He motioned for Alex to roll out the mat before telling him to lay down on his stomach on it. The mat was thin and foamy, and it reminded him of the yoga mats Brookland had in their mini-gym room.

"Now, I want ye ta do as maneh press-ups as ye can, lad." Finally! A sentence that wasn't boasted, but said as a normal person would speak it... only without the Scottish accent making it hard for Alex to understand him. "Chin down ta the floor ta arms straight is whon sit-up, and mek sure yer bums down when yer back comes up."

He left Alex to it, and after two minutes Alex was starting to sweat, his arms trembling slightly. He felt a little bit of pain in his chest, but it was coming more from his lungs as they couldn't get enough air in this position as it was from the wound. He stopped at one hundred and thirteen press-ups.

Most boys his age wouldn't be able to do this amount, but ever since he was six, unruly behaviour or refusal to listen to the instructor during his karate classes had resulted in twenty press-ups. If you repeated the same infraction in the same lesson, it went up to thirty and so on. As a young boy, his concentration had often wavered, and he found himself sometimes doing up to ninety press-ups in a class. His body was used to doing them, even though he hadn't been to lessons for a while.

"Good, good. Any pain?" Dr McCallum asked as Alex rested on his back, hands on his forehead, gasping slightly for more air.

"Just a little sore in my arms... haven't used my muscles for a while, I guess."

"Well then, set up and git those weights out, will ya? Start wi' the smallest whon an' do twenty lifts an' drops," he instructed Alex. The boy complied, lifting the two weights out, of in each hand, and doing as he was told. He read on the side of the bar that this weight was 1kg, and it was fairly light; he was done with the twenty lifts and drops within seconds. The next weight, 5kg, was more difficult, but didn't slow him down much.

As he moved onto the fifth weight, 40kg, he started to struggle. He knew normally he would be able to lift at least 60kg on a normal day, or during a PE class, but having had the tortuous morning he'd had, then doing more than a hundred sit-ups followed by lifting other weights, his arms were getting tired.

He gave up after that; he knew if he tried to pick up the remaining weights in the bag he'd more than likely drop them on his foot.

The doctor had watched him throughout it all silently, not saying a word but to encourage him onto the next weight.

Alex shook his head to the doctor, conveying he could do no more, and sat down in the chair he'd vacated earlier.

"Whon last test, Alex. Lift up yer shirt for me lad." The man said. Alex did so, and watched as the doctor first prodded at his bullet wound with a finger, watching Alex's face for any signs of pain or discomfort, before flicking it. Not seeing anything on Alex's face, he raised his fist to him. "You all right if I punch yer?"

Now that would be an odd question under any other circumstance.

"Well, I've never been asked if someone could punch me before. Normally they just do it. I kind of like being asked. Although I'm guessing I shouldn't get used to it, right?" The doctor smiled at him, and Alex nodded to him in acceptance of the impending punch.

Or punches, as he found out. The first one wasn't too bad; he'd been pushed back slightly because of it, but it didn't hurt. The second one pushed him a bit further back, as did the third. He righted himself each time, but after the fourth one, he couldn't help but let out a small wince. He'd guessed the punch didn't have as much power as that of a male adult could throw at him, but would be about what a trained child in fighting would be able to do.

"Good, good." The doctor said again, turning to Zara. He nodded his head, and without saying another word picked up the mat, weights and bag and left.

"Well, Alex. I wouldn't say you're medically up to par with what we normally recruit, but we _have_had more painful injuries come in from Cherubs during missions." She said. "We will monitor your bullet wound, and I'm sure the doctor will want to speak with you again – put you on medication for any pain you might receive from it among other things. But all in all, I'd reckon you would be worthy enough, with our training, to take on some bad guys. So, what do you say? Want to join Cherub still?"

Alex smiled – he'd now successfully infiltrated Cherub.

"I do believe my only other choice would be to go back to that children's home, right? Not much of a choice if you ask me. There's nothing to think about."  
**  
****So... what'd you think? Taken some bits from the Cherub books, I know, but I had to, really. I knew that I had to change some bits, because I don't want to get done for plagiarism or anything, so this whole moral thing has come up, which is what the chicken-killing thing in the books was mainly about. Would Alex do what was best for those he's loyal to even if it means breaking the law? Well, he's already proved that he would in the AR books.****Please review ;) **


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